


How to save a life

by oviparous



Series: How to save a life [1]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Friendship, M/M, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Multi, Revenants, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Secret Relationship, Undisclosed relationship - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 19:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14479221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oviparous/pseuds/oviparous
Summary: In a world where humans are gods and romance is outlawed, what will people do for love?





	1. Diktyopoeia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [learashi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/learashi/gifts).



> Originally written for ShoEx 2018, for learashi.
> 
> Warnings: Don’t know everything about medicine and science, so I made up the world to make up the medicine and science. If anyone reading is in related fields, sorry for so loosely interpreting your contributions to mankind.
> 
> Notes: Prompted with “Sho and Jun work at the same hospital and are professional rivals, but are also in a secret relationship.” Also, surprise relationship in the epilogue.

“You can’t say that to me,” growled Sho, pushing against Jun’s chest until he was backed up against one of the bookcases.

Jun smirked, tilting his head forward to avoid bumping it on the shelf. “It’s true, though.”

Sho gritted his teeth, gaze blazing, and he fisted the front of Jun’s scrubs. It was maddening, the way Jun spoke to him, all frigid candour and searing audacity.

“But let’s forget your incompetence,” said Jun, the words rolling indolently off his tongue, “because we both know—”

Sho surged forward and crushed their lips together, revelling in Jun’s muffled cry of surprise. He knew why he’d caught Jun off-guard: Sho tended to let the tension build, waiting for silence before making a move.

Not today. It was time to switch things up.

Sho slid his hands into Jun’s, bringing their arms up above them, pinning Jun against the shelves with his weight. He parted Jun’s lips with his tongue; Jun gave a soft moan, gripping Sho’s hands for purchase so he could buck his hips higher.

It was Sho’s turn to smile. “You like friction, don’t you?”

“With you, Sho-san?” Jun panted. “Always.”

Sho laughed into their kiss.

For all of Jun’s provoking insolence, once he got into the mood he was a humorous, pliant, tender creature. Sho liked that; he liked the process of dissolving Jun’s pretences, discovering Jun every time they stole a moment together. He liked how Jun responded to him, how Jun knew instinctively when to take charge and when to let go, how he would beg in feverish whispers for Sho to never stop.

It was almost enough joy to help Sho forget what they were doing was wrong.

Jun started sinking to the floor, trying to drag Sho down with him, but Sho held Jun upright, shaking his head. “We can’t lie down. It’ll catch our legs.” Sho pointed his chin towards the security camera above them.

Jun cursed under his breath. He’d forgotten it was there.

“Why do we have to be in here, of all places?” complained Jun, adorably frustrated. “What’s wrong with the on-call room?”

“You know what’s wrong with the on-call room,” Sho reminded patiently. “It’s right in the middle of the surgical floor. People will see us entering and leaving, like Toma did the last time. Do you honestly want to get ribbed about ‘sleeping with the enemy’ again?”

“Like the library’s so safe,” sneered Jun.

“Jun.” Sho softened his tone, hoping it would placate. “This is one of the few places in the hospital with a camera dead zone that isn’t the freaking crematorium. Nobody would expect anyone— _especially_ not us—to be fucking here.”

“Excuse me, but which part of this,” Jun surveyed Sho through lowered lids, his palms moving in slow circles to illustrate his predicament, “is us fucking?”

Sho gave Jun a pointed look. “Well, we’re only stalled because you’re running your mouth.” Sho couldn’t help the next thought that happened in his head, and his lips twitched in silent mirth; by the look Jun was giving him, he was also thinking the same thing.

Moments later Jun was on his knees, a greedy look on his face, stripping Sho of his pants.

“Careful, keep your feet close to your butt,” advised Sho, eyes flicking to the camera. “Don’t want to - _ah_.”

Sho could only hang his head and gasp as he was encased in the silky warmth of Jun’s mouth, and he clung to the shelf behind him for support as Jun worked.

Ever since he’d come to Yamato General, Sho had seen Jun operate as a factory of precision: he had a step-by-step, leave-no-stone-unturned approach when it came to treating his patients, and Sho wasn’t surprised this thoroughness extended to sex. It was glorious, the way Jun was taking him, and Sho wondered how a technique like that had been honed in a month. Did _he_ satisfy Jun like this? Shit, Jun was a natural. Sho felt stupid for feeling insecure, and consoled himself by thinking about how Jun had no other frame of reference, he wouldn’t know if Sho was shit or not.

Their eyes met. Sho asked if Jun was okay. Jun pulled back and swirled his tongue around the head of Sho’s cock in response. Sho took it as a yes. He shut his eyes, savouring Jun’s touch.

Four. This made four. They’d had sex four times ever since they’d been housed in that godforsaken hotel room during the snowstorm. Sho wondered: how long had they been hoping for that encounter? How long had they wanted each other?

Sho had wanted Jun the moment he laid eyes on him. He could finally admit it.

“That’s enough,” croaked Sho, pushing against Jun’s shoulders to slide himself out. “Come with me.”

“What? We’re stopping?” Jun’s eyes were glazed, his senses apparently blunted by the heady pleasure of the last few minutes.

“No, come together - come _in_ me,” Sho rephrased, quite incoherent himself. He picked up his pants to reach his pocket, pulling out two condoms and a sachet of ultrasound gel. “Good thing we work in a hospital and have access to these things. I went all the way to the east wing to swipe them from Anti-pathogen’s supplies closet—thankfully I had reason to be in there, otherwise…”

“You hideous person,” Jun wagged a finger at Sho in mock reproof, “how could you steal from the department with the largest budget?” Jun then snatched the condom packet out of Sho’s fingers, making him laugh.

When the condom was out Jun raised it to the light and squinted, flipping it back and forth. “Why do they make these things like that? I don’t want to always have to decipher which way is up.”

“We’ll get used to it,” said Sho, examining his own condom before rolling it on.

“The bubble pops up within the ring, right? Not outside of it?” Jun was still fumbling.

Sho rolled his eyes and harrumphed, taking Jun’s condom. He checked it was facing the right way and sheathed Jun. “There.”

“That felt nice.” Jun grinned. “I don’t mind you doing it for me every time.”

“Shut up and prep me.” Sho faced the bookshelves and passed Jun the gel over his shoulder, feeling Jun’s breath tickle his skin as he laughed.

It took a while and a bit of coaxing before Jun could get the tip of his finger into Sho, and soon Sho had to will himself to keep still as Jun proceeded to lubricate him with expert ease.

“Sho-san?”

“Hm?”

“Are you enjoying your rectal exam?”

“…I think my penis just wilted?”

Jun laughed. “Right.” Jun wiggled his finger, making Sho squirm and whimper.

“No weird sounds,” said Jun sternly, “otherwise I’ll get a hard-on every time I examine my patients’ butts.”

“Do we feel similar?” Sho couldn’t stop himself from asking; he was quite the anatomy nerd. “Humans and werewolves?”

“Doesn’t feel different to me.” Jun squeezed more gel onto Sho. “You ready for more fingers?”

“Go for it.”

Sho had never thought he’d ever fuck anyone in his life. He’d been brought up to believe sex wasn’t something to be enjoyed with another person; so had Jun, in fact. All the human children in the DTP—short for Diktyopoeia, the official, easily-mispronounced name of their realm—had been taught how to masturbate when they started school, and as Sho and his peers progressed into their teens they’d been given segregated lessons (six doors down from the girls) on how to use the tools and how to clean up, thus caring for their personal sexual health. Knowing when they wanted to have sex was important, their teachers had said, because it served as an indicator for the best time humans could mate. It'd been the way their ancestors had known when to breed, and although their method had been flawed, it’d formed the basis of modern reproduction principles.

Sho stifled the shame that stabbed at him then; recalling his teachers’ words made him remember how he and Jun were putting themselves and each of their communities at risk. But infection be damned; they were doctors and were convinced they knew enough about epidemiology to rule out the chances of them being the originators of some new disease that would drive the human population to near-extinction. Again.

“You okay?” asked Jun. “You’re being awfully quiet.”

“I’m good,” Sho assured him. “Just trying to concentrate.”

Jun’s fingers stopped inside of Sho. “Are you worried that we’re going to get caught? Because if you are—”

“No.” Sho reached behind him and took Jun’s wrist. “Come on. We’ll be fine.” Sho pushed Jun’s fingers further into him, rocking his hips against Jun’s hand. “We’ve bickered and put up a show, and our boss has called us into his office and insisted we make up before we cause a scandal, and we’ve proposed heading into a room to work it out in—” Sho groaned as Jun started stroking again, “—in private. Trust me, there’ll only be more days like this, when we’ll fuck and not get caught, because everyone knows Matsumoto and Sakurai actually hate each other, and the hospital will do their damnedest to hide it.”

Jun bore his weight on Sho and whispered into his ear: “How could I hate you?”

“Oh, you hate me.” Sho turned his profile toward Jun, lips parting as he let out a shallow breath. “You hate me very much.”

“Shit.” Jun took his fingers out in one swift motion. “Need you,” he rasped, cock standing at attention. “Now.”

Sho yanked off his shoes and planted his feet onto the lowest rack before clinging to the one above, giving himself enough height to sink onto Jun.

“Clever,” praised Jun, before bracing a hand on Sho’s hips, urging him down.

Before long they were both clutching onto the shelf for support, Jun managing with just one hand, the other occupied with helping to prop Sho up. Sho was biting the inside of his lip so hard he thought he was going to draw blood—Jun’s grunts were synchronised with the pounding of his cock, and the sound was driving Sho mad with lust.

“This is one sturdy bookcase,” said Sho, trying to distract himself so he didn’t push himself over the edge too soon. “I should suggest getting one for my office.”

“So we can fuck like this?” asked Jun, too innocently.

“Okay, that’s it.” Sho gave up. “I’m coming. You’re on your own.”

“Sho-san.” Jun laughed, breathless and despairing.

Jun let go of Sho to hang on to the shelf with both his hands, and Sho moved to find a more stable foothold on the rack, ignoring the protests of his arms to bear down on Jun’s cock. They moaned in tandem as Jun heaved up into Sho repeatedly, filling Sho with not only him, but an emotion so powerful Sho was quite afraid to put a name to it.

Sho came first, his knees giving way; he scrabbled at the shelves, barely hanging on, at the same time terrified that he would fall on Jun. Jun was impressively quiet as he finished, shuddering against Sho’s back and sliding halfway out as he lost his balance for that one moment right after.

“I would rather you stay in, but my arms and legs think otherwise,” confessed Sho, and Jun nuzzled against Sho’s ear, kissing the spot underneath it before drawing out, helping Sho clamber down the shelf.

Sho pillowed his head on the rack, listening to his heartbeat, trying to right his breathing. Jun came to stand beside him, pressing his cheek against the rack as well. They gazed at each other, offering smiles, and when Sho reached out to hold Jun’s hand there it was again, squeezing in Sho’s chest: that awful, foreign exhilaration.

“Kiss me,” breathed Jun, inching closer, and Sho did.

***

Sho lived in a dormitory tower, as did every other human he knew. Five such towers housed 960 humans, and they formed what they called the human facet of a two-level community. Living underground was the Colony, four times as large in numbers as the humans, and their level was structured in a vertical web of underground domes, a labyrinthian network few humans could or cared to navigate. The humans normally didn’t choose to live there; it was too nocturnal, too cold, too damp, too dirty.

But they weren’t meant to anyway, because the humans were gods, and the Colony denizens of darkness. They all seemed happy where they were.

“Hey Sho-kun, whatcha doing?”

Sho looked up from his book to see Ryuta, one of his roommates, peering at him past the edge of Sho’s bunk bed. Keeping a finger on the page, Sho closed the book and extended it past the guardrail so Ryuta could see its cover. 

“‘Blood, plasma and antigens: Undead Haematology for the Young Physician’,” read Ryuta out loud. He frowned. “Why are you reading a children’s book?”

“Oh, Ryu-chan. It’s not just a children’s book. It was _the_ book that made me want to pursue necrosurgery.” Sho tapped the author’s name at the bottom of the cover. “This was also Ohno-sensei’s first published work, and you know he’s my idol. Plus, I need some inspiration for the article I’m writing, and I was hoping Ohno-sensei could give me some ideas.”

“Ah, your column in the Colony Gazette,” said Ryuta knowingly, putting his bag on his desk. He started peeling off his sweater. “What’s it about?”

“Safe interspecies sex,” said Sho.

“…That’s totally unrelated to the book.”

“Yes, but Ohno-sensei’s writing is comprehensive and concise, and his style is exactly what the Colony Gazette wants for their health section.”

“So you’re copying from a children’s book. For an article on sex.”

“I’m emulating Ohno-sensei’s style,” defended Sho. He didn’t add that this all stemmed from the last piece he’d written on hair-loss remedies for revenants being deemed ‘lengthy and too peripheral’ by a rather erudite reader who’d wanted to learn about more preventative measures and less about the kind of herbs they could put on their long-dead follicles.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Ryuta suddenly asked. “Having to write about sex?”

Sho’s brows knitted. “What do you mean?”

“It’s so private. So personal.” Ryuta shucked off his dress trousers and reached into his closet for a pair of sweatpants. “If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to do it. It’s too inappropriate to discuss on a public platform.”

“It’s not like humans actually read the Gazette. The readership is ninety-five per cent Colony.”

“But it’s available to us. Every convenience store you go to it’s there, right beside the entrance.” Ryuta shook his head. “It’s weird thinking that anyone from the human facet can pick it up and read stuff about people having sex with each other. _Children_ could read it. It doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m a necrosurgeon, Ryu-chan. My patients have sex. And they need advice about it from time to time. Are you saying you don’t accept the Colony’s ways? We’re supposed to love them, you know.” It was hard to keep the edge out of his voice, but Sho didn’t like what Ryuta had to say.

Ryuta didn’t respond immediately; he was pulling on a T-shirt, and after his head popped past the collar he looked at Sho for a brief second.

“You’re preaching again, Sho-kun.”

“I’m not! I’m just stating the facts.”

“You know what? Maybe it’s because I only work with humans. I don’t know.” Ryuta got a laundry bag out of his closet. “I apologise if I let you think I don’t love the Colony, or that I was holding them in contempt, because I wasn’t. I was just telling you how I feel about non-solitary sex, a matter on which we should hold similar views, because we’ve known each other since we were kids and I know for a fact what kind of values have been imparted to you, since they’re mine as well.”

Sho stared at Ryuta. He was absolutely right.

“No—I overreacted,” said Sho, trying to quell the heat in his face. He couldn’t tell Ryuta how he now felt about ‘non-solitary sex’, about the law, about their society, about Jun. He couldn’t hurt Ryuta like that.

“Sorry, Ryu-chan.”

Ryuta shook his head, giving Sho an assuring smile, then proceeded to stuff his bag with dirty laundry. “Anything you want to wash? I don’t think I have a full load here.”

Sho was relieved that the conversation was over, and he hadn’t upset Ryuta too badly. “If you don’t mind washing my cover?” He patted his quilt.

“Give it here.”

Sho started unfastening the snaps on his quilt cover. “Oh, I think Masu-kun has socks in there.” Sho pointed to the laundry basket beside Masu’s bed, the one beneath his.

Ryuta groaned. “Taichi’s socks are always so gross…” He removed the lid of the basket, peered into it, and groaned again. “There’s underwear in there too. Oh Lethe, that’s _rank_.”

“Well, surgeons work really hard.” Sho chuckled as Ryuta pretended to gag. “You don’t _have_ to wash it.”

“Yeah, but I have to love him, so.” Ryuta shrugged, then craned his neck to look at the three other beds, all empty and in various stages of made-ness. “Do you think the rest have stuff they’d want to wash?”

“No clue.” Sho handed the duvet cover over to Ryuta. “Thanks, Ryu-chan—and please don’t put it in there,” Sho hurriedly said as Ryuta made a move to drop Sho’s duvet into Masu’s smelly basket. Ryuta mumbled that they were all going to be washed at the same time anyway, and draped the duvet over his shoulders before exiting the room, hugging the basket and the bag of laundry close to his sides.

As Sho watched Ryuta leave, he couldn’t help but replay in his head what they’d said about love: how Ryuta was supposed to love members of the Colony, how he’d insisted he did, and his throwaway comment about Masu. _I have to love him_ , Ryuta had said; and it occurred to Sho then how true it was, despite it not being the most accurate interpretation of how he felt about his roommates, and his community at large; because in their world, loving someone wasn’t a choice.

It was law.

***

It was the goddess Lethe’s birthday, a big day for the DTP, and there was going to be an exhortation by the Sovereign, broadcast live from the Crystallis which was, thankfully, situated in a timezone just three hours ahead of their territory. As they filed into the community pentagon that morning, edging as close to the stoves as they could because it was June and still quite cold, Sho realised how long it’d been since he’d been in the same space with all five of his roommates. They were all healthcare professionals—all humans were grouped by their vocation track, a path decided upon for them by the time they turned ten—and apart from Ryuta, who worked at a National Fertility Clinic, Sho and his roommates often had to work odd hours, their schedules hardly matching up.

It was the same for Jun, Sho had found out. Jun lived in another community, 40 minutes away from Sho’s by regular train; it was within walking distance from their hospital, which explained why so many of their colleagues came from Jun’s community. In fact, all of Jun’s five roommates worked at Yamato General, which meant Sho knew them; Oguri even worked under him.

“Do you think everyone’s here?” Sho heard Ryuta ask Tatsuya, who slept in the bed above Ryuta’s.

“From our tower, or the entire community?”

“It can’t be the entire community, some people must be at work,” Tsumabuki cut in, looking around at the crowd, made up of thousands of faces of humans and Colony members alike.

“It’s a national holiday, I’m not surprised if our tower’s in full attendance,” said Tatsuya, spotting their dormitory supervisor and pointing to her. “Igawa-san took a count as we left the building, she has the numbers.”

Sho felt a nudge from behind.

“Sho, what time do you have to leave?” asked Nari as he stifled a yawn. He was a gene researcher and had been working through the night on a project.

“Halfway through the speech, probably. Nine-fifteen,” said Sho, checking his watch.

“I’ll leave with you,” said Masu, who, like Tatsuya, worked at Yamato Medical. “I just got paged; my patient got matched with a donor. Her new heart is arriving at ten.”

Sho’s interest was piqued; he was about to ask Masu how he was going to perform the transplant when the screen mounted overhead flickered on, showing the Sovereign in a navy suit, standing behind the famed quartz podium, smiling into the camera.

“ _Citizens of Diktyopoeia, I bid you well_ ,” said the Sovereign, and the congregation burst into deafening cheers as though she could hear them. Sho clapped along, but his heart wasn’t really in it.

“ _Today, we celebrate our existence_ ,” came the beginning of the speech, simultaneously interpreted into Japanese for them. Most people living in the Yamato territory were monolingual with a mere smattering of English, though there was still a considerable number who were fluent in foreign languages. The Sovereign herself spoke impeccable English, despite her native language being Fijian.

“ _But not so much our existence, as our survival,_ ” the Sovereign went on, the sombreness of her tone marred by the rapid shutter sounds of the cameras that flashed in her face. “ _This year marks a century since the Incapacitation, and we will never forget the lives we lost to disease, or neglect the measures we have enforced to protect our bloodlines. This world was Lethe’s last gift to the universe, and we who live in it are her legacy. We shall preserve her birthright and work together to keep this country in its natural harmony; no matter man or woman, humans or Colony, we shall accomplish this with our common power of universal, unconditional love._ ”

This gave rise to more cheers, and Sho lurched forward as Tsumabuki and Masu clapped his back, roused by patriotism. Sho hoped his smile was convincing.

On the surface, this was an exhortation, but it was also the policymakers’ platform to hint at possible changes for the economy, society and environment. The Sovereign’s celebration speech was thus a prelude to the legislative address that was delivered every February from behind the same podium, and from now until February grassroots organisations and lobbyists would be campaigning both for and against the direction the government was taking them in. 

“ _‘I am a god, and I am but fragile’_ ,” continued the Sovereign, cueing more camera flashes, “ _and it is my wish that every human remembers this line as uttered by Lethe herself. We are revered, but we are not masters. We are immortal, but we are not indestructible. It is because of our beloved Colony that we are able to progress, to work towards repopulation, to give our citizens better lives._

“ _Therefore it pains me to know of the speculation and debate over how current legislation is a pampering of the Colony, extending to them certain freedoms which humans wish to claim for themselves. I beseech you not to think that these issues have to do with liberty, dear human fellows, because our Colony members are not oppressed to begin with. Though they serve us, they have never been our slaves._ ”

There was another passionate roar from the audience, and Sho could see several Colony members around him putting up their hands in a gesture of praise. Some were even crying.

“ _Just as their biology is their inheritance, and our godliness ours_ ,” said the Sovereign, “ _it is the original right of the Colony to be able to live according to their instincts. That is our unshakeable belief._ ”

Another cheer. Sho couldn’t partake in the joy. He knew the Sovereign was talking about the ban on sex, and consequently, romance. He couldn’t accept it, not when his faith in the things she was saying had been shaken, and certainly not when he was with Jun like he was.

“ _I ask that you channel your energies and emotions into your communities and vocations, fellow citizens, because it is through this purest, most enlightened law—the loving of both neighbour and stranger—that we shall perfect our world, that you shall find contentment and purpose._ ”

***

_Five weeks ago—_

The train grinded to a stop, and the lights flickered on.

“Dear passengers, we regret to inform you that we are experiencing poor visibility due to the escalating blizzard, and are making an emergency stop in northwestern Goryeo,” came the voice over the speakers, and Sho’s heart sank; he’d planned the next day right down to its last minute, and this delay would rob him of his morning sightseeing plans in Rus. “We are five kilometres from the nearest station, Moksori. Arrangements will be made to transport all passengers to Moksori, where members of the surrounding communities will assist you in finding accommodation for the evening. We sincerely apologise for the sudden change in schedule, and for all inconveniences caused.”

The message was then repeated in another language and another voice, and Sho sighed and pulled out his backpack from under the seat in front of him to put away the stack of newspapers he’d been reading. His business trips were somehow often interrupted by some kind of weather mishap, snow being the most common inconvenience. The first couple of times he’d deemed it coincidence, but now he was starting to think maybe he had some meteorological superpower he hadn’t known about.

The young vampire steward who served the business class slid the door to Sho’s carriage open and bowed deeply at the twelve passengers, some of whom were looking quite disgruntled as they muttered Lethe’s name and willed out loud for themselves to show love. The steward then straightened and looked at a card he had cupped in his gloved hand before striding purposefully towards Sho, stopping by his seat.

“Sakurai-sensei,” addressed the steward, before turning to the person sitting across the aisle, “Matsumoto-sensei, if you would please follow me.”

Ah, yes. Matsumoto, that proverbial pain, was going with Sho to the medical conference in Rus. Joy.

Sho had only joined Yamato General the year before, after being scouted by the Chief of Surgery to fill the newly-vacant position of Head of Necrosurgery. Yamato General had heard of Sho after he’d successfully performed a neck reattachment surgery on a revenant at his previous hospital, restoring function of both her thyroid gland and her bite, a feat that had been accomplished by few before him, and none in Yamato. It put the private practice on the map, and while the owners of the hospital were reluctant to see Sho go, they knew there was little they could do to prevent him from saying no to a leadership position at the biggest, most renowned hospital in the capital.

But little did Sho know that taking the job meant he was instantly pit head-to-head with several of the other departments in Yamato General, competing with them for research and equipment budgets, and getting involved in petty arguments over preferred operating theatres and favourite scrub nurses.

For his first few months at Yamato General, Sho truly felt he’d bitten off more that he could chew, and the surgeon who was most exacerbating his misery was the Head of Lycanthrosurgery, Matsumoto Jun.

He was younger than Sho and hadn’t been a surgeon as long, but was far more ambitious than Sho ever wanted to be—every suggestion Sho made at a meeting, Matsumoto would counter; every staff initiative Sho came up with, Matsumoto would try to best. Their bosses thought that such professional rivalry would only benefit the hospital, but it didn’t feel professional to Sho; Matsumoto definitely held something personal against him. Sho could sense it in the way Matsumoto looked at him, talked to him.

Sho was convinced he had never met a more disagreeable man—it was startling how Matsumoto could get away with how he behaved, seeing that their society put so much emphasis on the business of loving another, but his bedside manner was faultless and he seemed to genuinely care for the werewolves; Sho guessed that as long as the patients liked him, he could be a jerk to everyone else and the hospital would pretend they didn’t care. Matsumoto thus personified one of the greatest flaws of the DTP's love-thy-neighbour system: you could do whatever you wanted as long as no one reported you for hate, and if you were valuable enough there would be people braving fire and ice to cover your ass.

There was also one other thing about Matsumoto Jun that stood out: he was, rather regrettably, an astoundingly beautiful human. He had a face that looked like it’d been carved lovingly by Lethe herself, and judging by one accidental glimpse of him shirtless in the locker room, Sho knew Matsumoto’s body was similarly endowed. Sho had stifled the sudden onslaught of admiration by ducking back out into the hallway; his cheeks flushed hot at the memory. Thinking about Matsumoto’s physical attributes often made Sho experience a tumult of jealousy and embarrassment—surely he wasn’t seeing Matsumoto Jun in a positive light, not when he had been so rotten to Sho from the outset?

Sho had tried to ignore Matsumoto for the entire year, but he always seemed to be lingering in the periphery of Sho’s awareness—criticising a subordinate for something, giving some lip to a senior, being harsh to a tech. To be fair, all these people had slipped up and Matsumoto was keeping them in line, yet it still made Sho wonder: where did Matsumoto store his gall? How could anyone be this self-assured?

And what was Lethe trying to play at, having them be stuck in a snowstorm together?

“I’m very sorry, doctors,” said the revenant waiting for them at Moksori Station in passable Japanese, “our towers, full. Now, just Colony hotels. Not very good hotel, but not dirty. Okay?”

Sho had stayed in Colony hotels before; they weren’t too bad. They just smelt a little different and never had windows. (Not like there was a view to enjoy underground.)

“It’s all right. So long as we don’t have to share the same room,” joked Sho, and the revenant gave Sho and Matsumoto a weak smile.

“Maybe… same room,” she said waveringly, looking extremely apologetic.

Matsumoto’s head whipped up, his expression one of affronted alarm, and the revenant scurried ahead of them to gesture to the lift that would take them down to the Colony facet of the community built right beside the station.

Sho cast a sidelong glance at Matsumoto. He was looking sullen, his chin tucked deep into the folds of his scarf, hiding his mouth. Sho could see that his nose was red, and he gave a small sniffle as he wheeled his suitcase begrudgingly into the lift, reminding Sho of a petulant child.

Sho felt a funny twinge in his heart. If he didn’t know better, he might even have said he was finding Matsumoto cute.

The concierge at the hotel was a lot more fluent in Japanese, and Sho genuinely pitied her when she was the bearer of the news that they indeed had to share a room; the ‘What?’ Matsumoto gave her was laden with venom, and it was all Sho could do to bite his tongue and refrain from asking Matsumoto not to shoot the messenger. He didn’t want to pick a fight.

Thankfully, Matsumoto seemed a little less miffed when they were profusely apologised to and offered a free breakfast the next day.

“If there are any other alternatives,” Matsumoto was finally speaking in full sentences, “would you please inform me? I prefer not to room with my colleague. I hope you understand.”

The concierge faltered, sensing the demand in Matsumoto’s perfunctory politeness. “Y-yes, of course, we’ll inform you immediately if a room is vacated.”

“But don’t give yourselves a hard time,” Sho spoke up, “because we know things like blizzards generally limit the availability of accommodations.” He looked askance at Matsumoto before turning back to the concierge, offering her an encouraging smile. “We are lucky we have a place to stay tonight.”

They were shown to their room, which was, arguably, not too dank; it was equipped with two sad-looking beds and a dimly-lit bathroom, and Sho felt quite consoled when he saw that the wallpaper wasn’t cracked, though it had started to yellow in some corners. Matsumoto located the thermostat and immediately turned it up; Sho quietly picked the bed closer to the door, figuring that he might as well take the colder spot since he didn’t seem as sensitive as Matsumoto was.

Sho hauled his suitcase onto the foot of his bed and clicked it open. He stared at its contents for a few long seconds, the stony silence he shared with Matsumoto gnawing at him. He then cleared his throat.

“Let’s be grownups about this arrangement.”

Matsumoto slowly turned to face him. “What are you talking about?”

“What you said to the concierge just now.” Sho jutted his lips out, resolving to be civil. “I know you dislike me, but I just want to put it out there: _I’m_ all right with this. With sharing a room. It’s just for one night.”

Matsumoto only gave Sho a cold stare. “Please don’t use the word ‘dislike’. Anyone could misconstrue that as hate.”

Sho dropped his gaze, fiddling with his toiletries bag as he muttered under his breath: “Well, you’ve been an offender for the past year, then.”

If Matsumoto heard it, he didn’t say anything. He removed his coat and scarf, and stepped past Sho to get to the coat stand. Sho sulked, unhappy that his move to smooth things over hadn’t gone well. All Sho had wanted was to go to bed without any ill feelings between him and his temporary roommate.

“Why do you hate me?” came Matsumoto’s sudden question, and Sho turned around, surprised.

“I don’t,” said Sho simply.

Matsumoto put on a frown, made a lot fiercer by his strong eyebrows. “Then why do you treat me like shit?”

Sho gaped. “Please. _You’re_ the one who treats me like shit. Every time I’m minding my own business, trying to do my job well, you go out of the way to show you can be better than me. It’s fine if you’re halfway decent about it, but no. You’re on the offence all the time.”

“And you just pretend like I’m not there,” said Matsumoto, his knuckles turning white as he fisted the fabric of his scarf in his hands.

Sho fell quiet. He remembered a quote from one of Ohno’s more personal expositions, something that said how it was actually indifference, not hate, that was the opposite of love. Was that how his subconscious was trying to get back at Matsumoto?

“We’ve worked in the same hospital for a year, but you never talk to me. You don’t even want to be in the same room as me. Why do you think I made the request at the concierge?”

“That’s - that’s nonsense,” said Sho haltingly. He’d merely been ignoring Matsumoto. He hadn’t gone out of his way to avoid him.

Had he?

“On the rare occasion our departments have anything to do with each other, you always send a messenger,” continued Matsumoto. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed you detest me, and I can’t figure out how I’ve offended you. Have you seriously been bearing some sort of grudge since I took OR Two from you that one time?”

“I am not that petty,” Sho was quick to protest, suddenly embarrassed. For all the times he’d thought Matsumoto was a jerk, he might have been a bigger one.

“All right then,” Matsumoto folded his arms, “let’s hash things out. Tell me, Sakurai-sensei—what exactly is my problem?”

Sho felt cornered. This was unfair. Matsumoto had contrived Sho’s well-intentioned attempt to mellow out their tense relations into a confrontation Sho hadn’t asked for.

But if this was how Matsumoto wanted to ruin an already lousy evening, Sho was more than willing to cooperate.

“I think you’re pompous and conceited,” said Sho, sounding bitter even to himself. Matsumoto’s jaw went slack—those weren’t words people used to describe each other, especially not to their faces—but Sho decided to run with his indignation.

“You don’t hold your superiors in regard,” Sho counted on his fingers, “you’re rude to your subordinates, you constantly undermine your upperclassmen, and you take your patients’ love for granted.”

“Oh, really?” Matsumoto had on an ugly look. “And what are you? You’re not some kind of standard, you know. In fact, I think you’re a obsequious, holier-than-thou prick.”

It was Sho’s turn to reel in shock, not only from Matsumoto’s accurate use of a difficult word but also from his intent. This ill-bred, arrogant, contemptible…

“You think you’re so kind, so full of love, so perfect, and that gives you the right to judge.” Matsumoto gave a derisive smile. “But really you’re no better than any of us.”

Furious, Sho took a step closer to Matsumoto, wanting to threaten, to retaliate, to hurt. But his wrath muted him; it was as if he had too much to refute that he couldn’t decide what to shoot down first.

Matsumoto wasn’t backing down; he moved towards Sho as well, eyes flashing. They were close enough for Sho to feel Matsumoto’s breath on his lips, and Sho brashly dug his fingers into Matsumoto’s shoulder, not caring that Matsumoto could report him to the authorities for getting physical.

There was a palpable silence. Matsumoto stared at Sho, unmoving, challenging his next move.

Sho kissed him.

The next moment saw Matsumoto trapping Sho in his arms, kissing back as Sho squeezed his eyes shut and raked his fingers through Matsumoto’s hair, pressing against his skull to push his mouth closer; it was frisson and guilt and pleasure and shame all at once, and Sho finally understood, finally saw their conflict for what it was. And this knowing, this _feeling_ —it was both liberating and shackling, creating desires enticing yet forbidden, and suddenly Sho couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, not with the weight of all these contradictions.

Sho gave Matsumoto a hard shove, making him collapse onto the bed; Sho staggered back, pulse hammering in his veins, his senses still alight, the rest of his body arrested by dread.

What had he done?

On the bed, Matsumoto was looking as shocked as Sho felt, his chest heaving.

“I’m s-sorry,” stammered Sho after a long moment, “that was an awful thing to do. I have some antiseptic mouthwash, you should rinse your mouth as soon as possible.” Sho reached for his toiletries pouch, but Matsumoto was suddenly by his side, clasping his elbow, his face pinched shut.

“Sakurai-sensei.”

Sho couldn’t look at him. “Come on, Matsumoto. You know the rules. Go rinse your mouth.” He picked up the pouch and made a move to open it, but Matsumoto didn’t let go of his arm. It didn’t help that Sho’s hands were trembling.

Matsumoto gently turned Sho towards him. “Sakurai-sensei. I think I’ve finally figured out why we haven’t been able to get along.”

Sho tried to laugh it off. “Only now? After all the horrible things we’ve said to each other?” Sho hated the quiver in his voice. “There’s truly no love between us, Matsumoto. I was trying - I was just trying to punish you—”

“That wasn’t a punishment and you know it,” Matsumoto said through gritted teeth. “The Sakurai Sho I know isn’t a doctor who’d compromise anyone’s health.”

Sho flushed, ashamed. The air had suddenly become charged with something that wasn’t anger, and Sho knew he’d started it.

“It’s not wrong.” Matsumoto still sounded like his normal, difficult self, but there was a pained look in his eyes. “Just because the law prohibits acting on sexual attraction doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

Sho twisted his arm out of Matsumoto’s grasp. “You’ve misunderstood, Matsumoto. Let’s just forget this, all right?” Sho started heading towards the bathroom, hoping to escape, but Matsumoto stood in his way.

“What do you want to do with me?” asked Matsumoto.

“Huh?”

“We’re alone. Nobody’s watching us. What do you want to do with me?”

Sho was dumbstruck. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Answer me.”

“Stop.” Sho took a deep breath. Any more of this talk and he might actually go crazy. “We’re the gods, Matsumoto. We lead by example. We’re unblemished. Righteous.”

“Fuck that,” spat Matsumoto, though Sho could tell his spite wasn’t truly directed at him.

“Fine. We’re _doctors_ , Matsumoto,” hissed Sho. “We, of all people, are supposed to preserve the integrity of our currently pathogen-free biology in both our ideas and actions, and I won’t have any of your insidious remarks.”

“It’s not like we’re risking evolution! We can’t reproduce!” Matsumoto shot back. “The government keeps talking about infection, but you and I both know the worst thing that could happen is the one-in-a-hundred-thousandth chance of us awakening some harmful genome that propagates itself, and even then we can isolate it—”

“You’re being too naive!” Sho struggled to keep his voice down. This was a hotel; he didn’t want to alarm the other patrons. “This conversation is over, Matsumoto. Leave me alone.”

Hurrying across the room, Sho entered the bathroom, but before he could shut the door Matsumoto followed him in.

Sho let out a cry of anguish and pressed the heels of his hands against his brow. “Matsumoto. Please.”

Matsumoto closed the bathroom door behind him, wordlessly walking up to Sho until they were almost touching. Sho wanted to run, wanted the ceiling to fall on them so he didn’t have to face this, wanted to feel those lips on his again.

“I’m not confronting you because I want to fuck you,” said Matsumoto, and Sho winced at his brazen honesty. “This isn’t just about that. Don’t you see?” Matsumoto braced his hand against the side of Sho’s neck and tilted his chin up with his thumb. Sho let him, suddenly enervated.

“Tell me if you feel the same way,” said Matsumoto softly, and it would be easier to lie if he wasn’t being so sincere, so gentle.

“Matsumoto. We can’t.” Sho closed his eyes, wishing he wasn’t taking delight in the way Matsumoto was stroking his face, painting his skin with fire.

“Jun. I want you to call me Jun.” He boldly landed his lips on the side of Sho’s mouth. “I’m done with this charade. I’m done, Sho-san. No more pushing you away.”

Sho looked up, Jun’s words crippling his resolve.

“We could start another Incapacitation. We could be that one in a hundred thousand,” said Sho quietly. “What will happen then? How are we going to answer to our communities? To ourselves?”

“We won’t have to, because we won’t be.” Jun sounded so sure, so brave, and Sho knew this confidence was what had drawn him to Jun all along. “We’re doctors, Sho-san. We’ll be able to handle it.”

“If we get caught… It’s going to be decades in the Fridge.”

“We won’t get caught.” Jun gave a snort. “Come on, we’re Matsumoto and Sakurai. No one would even dream of us being friends, let alone… well.” Jun smiled. “That really depends on what happens after this.”

Sho let himself sigh as his hand found the back of Jun’s neck. “Fine,” Sho angled his forehead against Jun’s, “corrupt me.”

When Jun’s mouth closed upon his once more, Sho realised he regretted nothing.


	2. Retrograde

“Did you watch the Sovereign’s speech, Sakurai-sensei?” asked Toma as he joined Sho in front of the nurses station, where he was reading a patient’s file.

“My community watches all the big speeches together in our pentagon, so yes.”

“I came in early and watched it with some of the other doctors in the cafeteria,” said Toma. “Can’t believe the Sovereign’s first order of business was to talk about sex, huh? And she euphemised it so well—if it were me I’d just go, ‘Humans are not to fuck other people.’ But it’s stupid, when you think about it. We have urges too!”

Sho made an irritated noise. “Honestly, Toma, you constantly make me wonder what kind of people raised you.” Being around Toma always made him quite uncomfortable because he tended to tell awkwardly raunchy jokes that were completely inappropriate for the workplace. Sex was already taboo as it is; Sho didn’t need people like Toma to constantly remind everyone of its prohibition.

“I had a great many stimulating debates with my teachers growing up.” Toma grinned. “Anyway, I’m with you in the ER today. I’m very excited. Did you know you’re my _other_ favourite attending?”

Sho ignored Toma, put back the patient file, and started walking to the ER.

“Aren’t you going to ask me who’s the other one?”

“No.”

“It’s Matsumoto-sensei. Why don’t you guys like each other? You’re both so awesome.”

Sho groaned. Of all the interns to be on his service.

Yamato General was, like its name, a general hospital, which meant it treated all three species of the Colony and the multitude of illnesses they were subject to. Sho wasn’t an ER specialist or a trauma surgeon, but he had to do this rotation because there were never enough doctors to go around any hospital, even a big one like Yamato General; the human population was still too small for that to happen.

It’d been one of the things that some communities had been fighting for: some people were campaigning for Colony members to be able to do the jobs the humans did. The talks weren’t going anywhere, however; the government was a hundred per cent human, and there was no guessing as to where they stood on the matter.

Sho and Toma got to the ER, Toma leaving to respond to a new vampire who’d accidentally walked into a shrine and gotten the disorienting (but not incurable) apotropaic disease. Sho, on the other hand, was ushered swiftly towards one of the resuscitation rooms by Kitagawa, a senior nurse. Her immediacy bode no well; Sho steeled himself for some grisly sight and hurried after her.

“We have a John Doe, probably in his thirties; he’s sustained a vampire bite into the carotid, no other external injuries, suspected partial blood drainage,” said Kitagawa, her tone antiseptic despite what she’d just said. Partial blood drainage was the rarest of rare, and Sho had only ever seen cadavers with the condition. Being faced with an actual, living specimen was a first; Sho couldn’t hide his shock.

“How did he get in here?” asked Sho. Normally, the patient turned completely before entering the DTP; this John Doe was still a Third Realm human, on all counts. He couldn’t have appeared in the DTP on his own.

“A werewolf brought him in.” Kitagawa paused, then shook her head. “I love them, but sometimes I don’t know what these Colony members are thinking. They know they have to leave their prey behind if they aren’t successful in turning them, but this guy just waltzes into our ER with someone else’s unfinished business in his arms. I mean, seriously.”

“Wait, a werewolf brought the patient in?” asked Sho as they entered the resuscitation room, where a team of nurses was waiting. “Has he drunk from the River? What about the vampire that bit him?”

“Don’t ask me. He’s the one with the answers,” said Kitagawa, pointing to the man on the bed.

Sho went up to the patient and examined the bite as a nurse read his vitals off a chart. The man’s chest was cold, though his extremities were warm; he was breathing, but in an erratic rhythm. The blood around the puncture holes had already congealed, which wasn’t a good thing: if he retained too much blood, his body would resist the virus, wreaking havoc in his system.

Sho waved a hand over the man’s face. There was no response even though his eyes were wide open; his pupils were abnormally dilated, giving him an almost comical look.

Sho nodded to Kitagawa to signal he was done checking the eyes. As Kitagawa taped the patient’s eyelids shut, Sho moved on to check his limbs. His shoulders were rolled forwards, twisting his arms tightly into his body; his wrists were bent; his fingers had curled against his palms. The deformation had begun, meeting the final benchmark Sho needed to diagnose the patient with partial drainage syndrome.

“How long has he been rigid?” asked Sho.

“One minute and twenty seconds.”

Sho set his mouth into a grim line. They’d just lost their easiest way out of this fix: bleed him out to turn him into a vampire. The vampiric virus had started to mutate into its more aggressive form to try and overpower the antibodies in the blood that remained in his body. It usually won—sacrificing the host in the process. Sho needed to delay that reaction for as long as he could.

“Get his temp up to at least thirty-six, and give him five units of blood,” Sho instructed, and as blankets were taken off the shelves the nurse standing closest to the phone rushed to make the call to the blood bank, but his hand halted above the receiver as he remembered something.

“Sensei, what blood does he need?” asked the nurse. “We don’t have any Third Realm human blood.”

Sho blinked. The nurse was right. Introducing more vampire blood into this man could kill him, and direct contact with revenant blood could shut down a Third Realm human’s brain in under a minute. Sho wasn’t sure if werewolf blood, the Colony’s universal donor, would work on someone who wasn’t already turned, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Give him werewolf blood,” said Sho slowly. “O Neg. And do a matching test to find out his ABO blood type.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

In his first years of school, many of Sho’s classmates had struggled with understanding the Colony’s dependence on blood, but not him. For Sho, it had made a lot of sense—contaminated blood was still blood, and while the impurities within it interacted with the cells differently than how they did in Third Realm humans, it was basically memory work: all he had to do was to remember how each contaminant affected which kind of cell in what way, and he was set. As long as the rules were followed, the cipher would stay true.

After being put in the medical track, however, Sho hit a wall: Werewolf Physiology. It was his worst subject. Werewolves were carriers of a virus that was different to that found in the revenants and vampires, and studying how to treat them always gave Sho a headache. The undead—a collective name for revenants and vampires—had viruses that reanimated all of their previously-Third-Realm-human cells, and because vampires had actually descended from revenants, their biologies were somewhat similar, making their viruses similar as well; werewolves, however, carried a virus that infected only select cells in the body, mutating those cells and isolating a part of the Third Realm human within the human itself, thus creating the wolf that was also the person. The only common property these different viruses shared was they chilled their hosts at the same speed, since they needed the bodies to be cold enough to multiply. 

Sho had thus known before graduation that he wasn’t going to pursue a career related to treating werewolves, not specifically at least. There were many exceptions to the rules when it came to werewolf physiology, and the rules themselves were numerous, giving exam questions several possible answers, all of which the student was supposed to be able to regurgitate. People who did well in Werewolf Physiology were the type who had an irritatingly retentive memory, the type who could see the big picture down to its minutest detail, the type who would go over all these myriad details again and again in their heads until they perfected their knowledge. Jun fit that description to a T, of course, and just as Sho was thinking this it was Jun’s voice that he was hearing, travelling down the corridor, shouting for someone to stop, making Sho and his colleagues look up in alarm—there were a few screams and a loud clatter and the door to Sho’s resuscitation room burst open to reveal a man of slight stature, naked from the waist up, his narrow chest heaving as his eyes darted around before coming to a rest on Sho’s patient.

“Is he alive?” asked the man, sounding afraid as he inched forward, and Sho guessed he had to be a patient since he wasn’t wearing scrubs and his fingers were wrapped in gauze; he didn’t have a vampire’s red irises or the waxen pallor of a revenant, so he had to be a werewolf, though Sho couldn’t see his nails.

“Ninomiya-san,” called Jun breathlessly, coming into view. It took a second for Sho to realise Jun was addressing the werewolf. “You can’t be here.”

“Please,” the werewolf stepped into the room and approached Sho; Sho instinctively took a step back, putting himself between the werewolf and the patient on the bed. He couldn’t have a werewolf bite the guy; that would really complicate things.

“Ninomiya-san?” Jun’s voice had now turned soothing and calm. “We need to finish treating that burn.”

The werewolf ignored Jun and continued advancing towards Sho, his face crumpling as he got onto his knees and reached for the hem of Sho’s coat.

“Please save him,” the werewolf pleaded, astonishing Sho, who was expecting to exert authority. “Please don’t let him die.”

Sho suddenly realised who this man was. Kitagawa had mentioned a werewolf had found the patient in a ditch. This had to be the werewolf.

But it made little sense to Sho. Sho’s patient was a Third Realm human—this guy at Sho’s feet was a werewolf. All of the Colony were once Third Realm humans, yes, but when they turned they would’ve experienced a thirst that only the River’s waters could quench, and after drinking the water they would forget their previous life. This memory loss was irreversible. It helped the Colony hunt by sparing them the guilt of preying on people they’d known back in the Third Realm.

Sho struggled to keep his thoughts in order as logic tried to disprove the situation at hand. It was impossible that the man on the bed meant anything to the werewolf, unless this werewolf was somehow able to recall the memories from his past life…

Just then the transporter from the blood bank—Okubo, a veteran of Yamato General and resident cynic—arrived with her cooler box of blood, and she gave a tired frown as she took in the sight before her: doctors and nurses standing in a circle around a patient paying obeisance to Sho, another patient dying on the bed.

“Whenever’s a good time, children,” she said blandly, prompting the team of nurses into action, receiving the blood from her and starting the transfusion.

“Come on, let’s get you up.” Sho pulled the werewolf up by the arms—he was thin, too thin for a grown man—and as Sho’s fingers came into contact with the werewolf’s skin Sho realised there was something off about the sensation, something that could be felt even through his gloves, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as the nurses started reporting their John Doe’s current stats.

“Please don’t let him die.” The werewolf was still distraught, craning his neck to see past Sho as Jun took him by the shoulders to steer him out of the room. Kitagawa quickly drew the curtain around the bed, hiding the patient from view.

“I’ll do my best to help him transition,” promised Sho, wanting to calm the werewolf down.

“No,” he said in a fierce whisper, grabbing Sho’s coat once more, “no turning. Aiba-kun can’t be one of us. Do you know who he—”

“Ninomiya-san,” Jun cut in sharply, “that is no way to behave towards a god.”

The werewolf fell quiet as he released Sho’s lapels, looking at Sho dazedly before hanging his head. Jun was wearing a strange expression, one Sho had never seen on him before, and if Sho didn’t know Jun better he would’ve thought it looked like fear.

“If you still want to use your hands, you have to come with me. Now,” commanded Jun, and Ninomiya automatically turned his palms upwards to look at them.

Sho tried not to grimace: that was one ghastly injury.

It was as if someone had branded Ninomiya with a rod pulled from a blazing forge, the stripes on his palms angry and charred and gruesomely sanguine, though Sho knew it was unlikely that fire had been the culprit behind Ninomiya’s affliction. It could only be a silver burn, and looking at the depth of it—Sho glimpsed bone—and the way the stripes extended past Ninomiya’s bandages and up his fingers, Sho deduced that Ninomiya had gripped the thing that hurt him, and he’d gripped it hard. How he was not screaming in pain was a mystery to Sho.

It was common knowledge that Third Realm humans carried silver around to defend themselves against the Colony. Sho also knew, from his experience of removing the metal from some very lucky undead, that it came in a variety of bullets, darts, stakes and blades.

Had Ninomiya been attacked?

“Sakurai-sensei, we need you in here,” called Kitagawa from behind the curtain, and Sho snapped to attention. Jun was already leading Ninomiya out, and as he made towards the door Jun stared at Ninomiya, worry creasing his features.

Sho took this all in, then ducked behind the curtain.

“Sorry,” he said to Kitagawa as he examined the patient’s limbs. They were supple, his body temperature having been brought up to 37 degrees Celsius. He was now as warm as Sho.

He was now as warm as Sho…

That was it, Sho realised. That was the weird thing about Ninomiya, the thing Sho had noticed when he touched him.

He’d been warm.

***

It’d been a long day. Sho’s patient—‘Aiba Masaki', a nurse had supplied, receiving word from Jun, who’d apparently gotten the information from Ninomiya—was in intensive-care, unconscious, feverish and still fighting for his life, but the good thing was he seemed to respond to werewolf blood.

But giving him more blood to counter the vampiric virus wasn’t the solution. What they were doing now was just buying him time: eventually his white blood cells would lose, and he was going to die. 

There was one more option left for Sho. It seemed like the only way out, the only way Aiba could survive this ordeal.

He could turn Aiba into a revenant.

A form of the revenant gene was present in vampires, and researchers had found out the revenant virus could be drawn out from a vampire’s cells by injecting a large amount of the revenant virus into the host, though it did mean the revenant virus would dominate, effectively changing the host from vampire to revenant. Doctors hadn’t known what they could do with that for the longest time—there was no need to change the members of one species into another—until the Incapacitation, when there were diseases that only affected vampires; doctors turned them into revenants to save their lives.

Sho figured out it wasn’t too different for Aiba. He wasn’t already a vampire, but he had the virus inside of him. He couldn’t accommodate revenant _blood_ , yes, but they could feed the revenant _cells_ into him intravenously. Sho hadn’t done it before, but he knew how to do it—they’d need a lot of plasma and he’d have to rope in a neurosurgeon to remove fluid from Aiba’s brain—but as he pondered this possibility, Ninomiya’s words haunted him, begging him not to change Aiba.

There was a loud clanging from the bells overhead as the train rolled onto the platform, interrupting Sho’s thoughts. He was taking the bullet shuttle today, since it’d would get him home within 15 minutes instead of 40—he found the extra cost worth it, given how exhausted he was.

Izanami was the name of Yamato’s capital city, and it was where the hospital was. Its corresponding station was Izanami Station, a major interchange sitting in the northeastern wing of the city, connecting Yamato with its neighbours of Goryeo, Rus, Tang and Formosa. As such there were always a lot of tourists around, and Sho always entertained himself by listening to the polyglot conversations going on around him, trying to figure out who was from where and what they were saying. Today, however, Sho was surrounded not only by tourists, but also by a huddle of giggling children, accompanied by their teacher, a stately middle-aged woman who wore her hair in a complicated chignon.

The children and teacher all boarded the train, entering the same compartment as Sho; it looked like they were on a field trip, and Sho suddenly remembered it was a national holiday for the rest of the world; it was common for teachers to schedule such excursions when there weren’t any regular classes.

Sho gave the teacher a friendly smile before checking his ticket to locate his seat, finding himself beside a young girl who was looking longingly at the group of kids. She wasn’t wearing their uniform, which meant she wasn’t from their community.

“Are you alone?” asked Sho kindly.

The girl nodded.

Sho smiled. “I’m headed to Kodama. How about you?”

“Jorougumo,” she said, returning the smile, and there was hardly a waver in her voice. Sho was impressed at how grownup she seemed.

“That’s far. Why are you alone?”

“We had a field trip to the botanical gardens today, and I was on the canopy trail too long so I missed the meeting time. My class went home without me and the staff put me on the next train home.”

Sho raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t your teacher do a head count?”

“I expect she did, but there were so many people there.” The girl pointed to the kids from Sho’s community. “They were there too.”

Sho started excavating a memory from his childhood. “You know, I’d gotten left behind once, like you, except my trip was to the science museum.” Sho laughed, shaking his head. “I called my teacher and told her I could ride the train alone back to Kodama, but she didn’t let me, and doubled back to Bunbuku-chagama to pick me up.”

“Oh, your poor teacher. Bunbuku-chagama is way out in the sticks.” The girl gave a merry laugh. “How old are you?” she asked, and from her tone Sho could tell it was a real question, not a sarcastic jibe.

“I’m thirty-four years old.”

“I’m nine.” The girl pointed to herself. “Horii Mayu.”

Sho grinned and copied her. “Sakurai Sho.”

“Sakurai-san.” Mayu angled her head.

“Mayu-chan.” Sho bowed back. He then gestured to the kids sitting at the back of the compartment. “Aren’t you going to play with them?”

Mayu shook her head and pointed. “Look. Their teacher’s giving them books and puzzles. I don’t think they’re allowed to play on the train.”

“Ah.” Sho nodded. He’d figured out early on that different communities had different ways of raising their kids. “Well, I only have about fifteen more minutes on this train, but we could play a game if you want.”

“Really?” Mayu’s face lit up. “Can we play Colony?”

Sho had to think for a moment before he remembered ‘Colony’ was also the name of a clapping game. It’d been a long time since he played it; he wasn’t even sure he remembered the chant. “How does it go again?” asked Sho, readying his hands in front of him.

Mayu touched her palms to Sho’s and took a deep breath.

“Tell me what’s your name, my friend?  
Builder, Farmer, Miner, Fisherman,  
Butcher, Baker, Carpenter  
But Fellow Man you shall call me never.  
One timeless life, one timeless toil,  
For timeless beauty on this timeless soil.  
Let silver’s curse our faith redeem,  
The blood we shed a fleeting dream.  
Colony, Colony, race of ones,  
A prayer, a penance, a hope for no harm.”

***

It was a new day, and Sho was at work before dawn broke, mainly to check on Aiba, but also because he'd gotten a message through the hospital paging system from Jun asking if they could talk about the ER rotation, which was always a convenient excuse for doctors to meet—Sho wondered if this was now code for _let’s have sex in the library_ , and curiously enough he wasn’t as keen to fuck Jun as he was to exhaust all his feelings about how creepy the words to the Colony clapping game was. They hadn’t meant anything to him as a child, but now Sho could see they were talking about something deeper, something darker, and Sho needed to get it off his chest.

Coworkers greeted Sho as he headed to meet up with Jun, some of them blearily as they clutched their coffees, and as the door to the locker room swung open Sho ran into Oguri, who was sounding annoyed as he spoke to someone within the room. Sho caught him saying: “—always been too involved. Think with your head, please,” and Oguri stopped short, suddenly flustered, when he saw Sho right outside the room.

“Hey, boss,” Oguri was rather adept at composing himself, “have you been standing out here long?”

Sho shook his head. “You okay, Oguri-kun?”

“I’m fine.” Oguri gave Sho a tight smile. “Your Third Realm patient is doing the same, by the way. I gave him some antibiotics to help his fever; everything’s in his chart.”

“Thank you. You worked hard today,” said Sho, making a move to enter the locker room, where Jun was hopefully waiting alone.

“Oh,” Oguri seemed to be remembering something, “one more thing. The High Priests’ office called. They heard about Aiba-san and want to administer the waters to him, but I said he’s not out of the woods yet, plus he’s your patient so I can’t decide anything.”

Sho felt a strange tugging in his gut. This was his first time encountering a live Third Realm human so he really didn’t have experience with their integration process, but it didn’t sit well with him that the authorities were this enthusiastic to erase Aiba’s memory. He wasn’t even turned.

“Got it,” said Sho, pushing the feeling away, “thanks, Oguri-kun.”

“You’re welcome, boss.” Oguri gave a bow as he stepped away. “Bye.”

Sho waved to Oguri’s retreating back and entered the room to find Jun in a chair, hunched over with his fingers steepled. He stood up the moment he saw Sho.

“Sho-san…” said Jun, a weariness in his voice, and Sho knew Jun needed his comfort.

“Are we alone?” asked Sho, and when Jun nodded, Sho turned to lock the door.

It was mostly relief, Sho guessed as Jun flew towards him, that drove them to behave like this; relief from the banality of their existence, the demands of their jobs, their burdensome responsibilities. It was freeing, this skin-upon-skin, mouth-upon-mouth, flesh-upon-flesh, stripping them of every worldly worry that plagued them. These moments were what Sho lived for now, moments filled with sensations he indulged in only with Jun.

Sho left the entryway to back Jun up against the lockers, gently so they wouldn’t rattle anything, and they struggled out of their pants and fumbled at buttons as they kissed, trying to work without breaking apart, giving up on the undressing efforts when Sho had to mute himself against his fist as they grinded. Sho was gone, his mind, all of it was gone, engulfed in a desperate, hopeful, unadulterated desire that had its flames locked in and stoked by the privacy of the room. He was only aware of Jun’s heat, his touch, and minutes later, as Sho clasped a hand around both their cocks he told Jun he _needed_ him, nothing else mattered; and Jun took Sho’s head in his hands and kissed his hair, his nose, his lips, before grabbing Sho’s ass and jamming Sho against him. The friction from Jun’s balls against his sent a hot pulse up Sho’s cock and he came with a surprised cry, Jun following only a moment behind, smearing cum between them as he tried to catch their releases by pressing their stomachs together, not quite successful as some of it leaked past them and onto the clothes that’d been strewn on the floor.

“Sorry,” said Sho, panting, “I really thought I could last a while more.”

Wordlessly, Jun bent down to pick up his scrub top and used it to wipe Sho’s thigh and their bellies. He then inspected Sho’s shirt, which had been merely unbuttoned in his half-hearted attempt to take it off.

“There’s cum on this, and it’s Esprimere…” Jun choked out as he grabbed Sho’s shirttails and concentrated on dabbing at the wet spot.

Sho laughed, taking in Jun’s current outfit: a T-shirt and a single sock. “Imagine what everyone would say about our fashion choices this morning, huh, Matsumoto-sensei?” teased Sho as he clasped his hands behind Jun’s neck.

When Jun didn’t say anything, Sho dipped his head to look at Jun’s face. “Jun?”

Jun was sniffling quietly, tears dripping from his chin and growing the wet spot on Sho’s shirt.

Sho froze. “What’s wrong?” Sho tried to wipe away Jun’s tears, but he pushed Sho’s hands away. Sho stood, reeling. Surely this wasn’t about the shirt? It was expensive; Esprimere was Jun’s favourite brand; no one Sho knew loved clothes like Jun—but Jun wouldn’t cry over something that would wash out perfectly, it wasn’t like him.

“We can’t - this - I can’t,” Jun was blubbering now, inching away from Sho, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes. He scooped up his briefs and pants from the floor, mopping up the last of the cum with his scrub top, before turning his back on Sho and opening his locker to get his outside clothes.

The _rawness_ of it all, the incredulity—Sho couldn’t understand.

“No,” said Sho fiercely, spinning Jun back to face him. “This wasn’t the plan. You and I—we’re in this together. Always.”

Jun’s face crumpled. “I can’t bring you down with me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought,” Jun couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice, “I thought I could do this with you one last time, you know, to say goodbye—”

“ _Jun_ ,” said Sho sharply, “would you just tell me what is going on?”

“The less you know, the better,” said Jun, taking shaky breaths as he tried to compose himself, “trust me.”

Sho’s mind raced. “Oguri said something just now as he left,” began Sho, measuring his words, “something about you always being too involved.”

Jun paled. He started getting dressed, avoiding Sho’s gaze. “Oguri talks too loudly and too much.”

“He’s your roommate, isn’t he?” Sho grabbed Jun’s arm, perhaps painfully because it made Jun wince, but he was past caring. “What did he mean, you being ‘always involved’? Was he talking about you being together with someone else?” Sho felt ugly inside, like there was something writhing within him, scorching and venomous and crass. In his mind’s eye he saw a faceless person, doing the things he did with Jun, and it made Sho want to rip into the stranger and tear him apart.

Jun gaped. “You were my first, Sho-san. I promised you my body was safe. And do you think I’d actually say anything about us?”

“Then what is it?” roared Sho, as one emotion flared into the next. Jun didn’t just have all the answers: he had the questions as well, leaving Sho completely lost.

There was silence for a few seconds before a knock came at the door. “Is everything okay in there, doctors?”

Sho recognised the voice—it was Kanno-sensei, an attending from his department. The women’s locker rooms were next door; she could’ve easily overheard Sho yelling. Then the door handle was tried, and another voice chimed:

“Hey, morning. Takito here. It’ll be nice if I could use my locker?” said the attending from Neuro.

“They’ll think we’re fighting, as usual,” said Jun in a tired whisper. “Tell them.”

“This is Sakurai, having a chat with Matsumoto-sensei,” called Sho. “Won’t be long.”

“Oh, take your time then,” Takito’s voice travelled into the room, and they heard the exchange between Kanno and Takito as they shuffled away, making themselves heard on purpose. They were wondering if ‘Matsumoto and Sakurai will ever get along’ and how it was better to ‘keep the hospital’s dirty linen in the basket’. Sho and Jun had preserved their front, but did it matter to Jun at this point?

The interruption cooled Sho off a little, however, and he now felt sorry for accusing Jun of lying to him, of having sex with somebody else.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions based on half a sentence I overheard,” said Sho the moment the voices from outside faded away. “You’re acting weird, and I…” Sho sighed, taking Jun’s shoulders. “I was serious about what I said just now. I really do need you.”

Jun’s eyes flashed and he opened his mouth to say something, but Sho wasn’t finished.

“Not just to fuck, Jun.” Sho gave Jun a pained look. “I actually need you. Do you understand? I would do anything for you. I’m _with_ you.”

Jun closed his eyes, leaning his head against the locker, his chin trembling as he held back tears. At least, Sho thought, he wasn’t trying to push Sho away.

“When we started this,” Sho went on, “I didn’t know what I was in for. I didn’t know how far it would go beyond the sex. I didn’t know that every day I would wake up excited just because I was going to see you at work. I didn’t know there was a feeling like this, that I could deem someone more important than myself.” Sho took a step closer. “That’s not going to change no matter what.”

Jun started crying again, and he reached out to Sho, who enveloped him tightly in his arms, shushing him.

“Way before you came, when I’d just made head of department, I had a patient,” Jun managed. “She reminded me of a werewolf I knew in my childhood. I ended up getting too attached.”

Sho rubbed Jun’s back, saying nothing.

“Long story short, I helped her die. Oguri caught me doing it. The hospital - the hospital doesn’t know,” croaked Jun.

Sho hugged Jun closer, feeling the swell of Jun’s ribs as he took a large gulp of air.

“And now I’m going to help my patient save his friend.” Jun pushed Sho back to look at him, defiance wrought into his gaze despite the fear colouring his voice. “I won’t be able to keep this one under wraps. Not this time.” Jun bit down on his quivering lip. “I’m sorry, Sho-san. I’d rather serve my conscience than my desires, and this is the only right thing to do. I have to do it, even if it means ending things with you.”

Blood rushed through Sho’s veins, drowning all of Sho’s logic in its scalding current; in his ears and throat, his heart pounded. “Whatever you’re doing, you’re not doing it alone. I’ve got you, you hear me? I’m in this too.”

“No,” Jun panicked, “I didn’t tell you just so you could—”

“You don’t get to say no,” Sho snarled, making Jun flinch as he brought his palm down hard on the locker door. “You can’t do this to me. You have no right to decide when to let me in and when to push me away. You’ve ruined me, Jun. Don’t you dare walk away from me when _you_ made me feel this way in the first place.”

“How we _feel_ is inconsequential to this, Sho-san, why don’t you see that!”

“How is it inconsequential? We’re _together_. You can’t just throw that away, not with all that you believe about your parents.”

“Maybe my parents were stupid,” snapped Jun. “They threw away their entire lives for their feelings!”

“And you loved them for it.” Sho caught Jun’s arm. “I told you, remember? _I’m not going anywhere._ ”

“Sho-san—”

“It’s the guy with the burn—Ninomiya-san, right?” interrupted Sho. “The patient you’re helping?”

There were fresh tears in Jun’s glare as he fell quiet, realising he’d let too much slip. “You don’t understand anything.”

Sho didn’t relent in his silence. He glared back.

“We’re talking about faking deaths and smuggling people across borders, Sho-san,” hissed Jun eventually, dragging his arm out of Sho’s grasp. “People the authorities know exist. I can’t protect you! I can barely protect myself.”

“I don’t need your protection,” said Sho firmly. “Also it sounds like you could use some help, since I’m quite certain ‘Ninomiya-san’s friend’ means my Third Realm human patient.”

“I don’t want you to help. I don’t want you getting involved.”

“I’m already involved. The moment you told me, I’ve been involved.” Sho was calm, fully aware of his insolence.

Jun stayed rooted to the spot, his breaths shallow. He wiped his face and shook his head, letting out a sorry laugh. “I hate you so much, Sho-san. I really do.”

“Likewise.”

Jun’s expression softened as he met Sho’s eyes. “Hey. Don’t cry.”

Sho hadn’t even realised his face was wet. He swept away the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks, and after a beat, snatched Jun into another crushing hug.

“You’re mine.” Sho rasped into Jun’s neck.

“Idiot,” said Jun quietly. Sho then felt Jun’s arms come up around him.

A pause. A tightening hold. A sigh.

“Yours. More than ever before,” said Jun.

Sho squeezed his eyes shut. “No turning back now.”

“No,” Jun agreed, “no turning back now.”

***

_Three weeks ago—_

As Sho’s vision coalesced and the room was brought into focus, so was the face of the man lying beside him. Sho couldn’t stop his cheeks from getting warm as he recalled what they’d done in stark clarity; not just this time, but the other times as well.

The first time they had sex was two weeks ago, in that hotel in Goryeo. After what had seemed like an eternity of kissing against the bathroom sink Jun had run across the street to a convenience store that sold what they needed—it was Colony-run so they stocked things people used for sex—hiding his hands with gloves so he could pass off as a werewolf. Sho, left in the room, had tried to relax and prepare himself, but he was so horny and such a bundle of nerves at the same time, all he could do was to sit under the shower and pray the water would wash his anxieties away by the time Jun came back. Jun returned from the store with five kinds of lube only to find Sho in the shower bemoaning his nervous, flaccid dick, but Jun had just laughed, stripped and joined him. After a lot of what Sho can only remember as _Fun and Exploration_ he managed to find his erection again, and after they figured out which lube wasn’t water-soluble Jun let Sho enter him there, standing in that shower.

That first time, as Sho fucked Jun against some very slippery wall tiles all he could think of was how they had to do it again. It wasn’t just the gratifying sensations, no—it was the entire idea that there was someone in the world who let Sho be as close to them as this, a sheer intimacy that seemed almost sacrificial. It made Sho’s heart soar with joy and affection that was so pure, it boggled his mind that it was actually forbidden.

The sex had been good for Jun, too, because he’d asked to be fucked again in the morning, this time on the bed, and they both agreed it was easier and more comfortable. Sho had been afraid to ask for another chance at this, but Jun had suggested, between kisses, that they try to make this happen again in the on-call room at the hospital.

So they’d had their second encounter in this very on-call room, where Jun had entered him and Sho had found out the true meaning of pain and pleasure in realms previously unknown; they also noticed Sho was prone to groaning loudly during non-solitary sex, which was mad and dangerous for their situation, though it turned Jun on a great deal. Sho actually considered gagging himself, but Jun said they’d save that for another time.

And this time they’d fucked each other with their mouths—their _mouths_ —and it had been the craziest, most unhygienic, sexiest thing Sho had ever done in his life, until Jun released Sho’s cock and clambered up to Sho’s end of the bed, asking to have a taste of himself; as they kissed, Sho realised _that_ was the craziest, most unhygienic, sexiest thing he’d ever done. (Technically he’d put two cocks in his mouth! One of which was his own!)

With Jun, there were always new frontiers to conquer, and Sho was enjoying every minute of it.

“Sho-san, you up?” Jun’s voice cut into Sho’s concupiscent reverie.

“Mm.”

Jun fit himself against Sho’s back, slinging an arm across Sho’s waist as he nuzzled the dip between Sho’s neck and shoulder. “Nap’s over.”

“Unfortunately.” Sho took Jun’s hand in his. “So. We have to vacate this room soon. Separately.”

“I’ll head out first.”

“Mm.”

There were no further words. Sho wondered if Jun was as loath to leave as he was.

There was a shiver of a breath against Sho’s skin. “Sho-san.”

Sho twisted to meet Jun’s face. His eyes, so unlike Sho’s own, were fringed by lashes of deep ebony, amber luminosity pooling with rich dark chocolate. In them Sho saw a flame so intransigent—the very thing that attracted Sho to Jun, unwavering in its loyalty and principles—and a quiet gentleness, as he was soft and kind and true.

“I trust you,” whispered Jun, and there seemed to be an entire universe in his eyes, a universe that had Sho at its core.

Impulsively, Sho wrapped Jun against him. “Mine.” Sho breathed. “You’re mine.”

Jun gave a soft laugh and nodded.

There was a pause. “Did I just say something creepy?” asked Sho tentatively.

Jun laughed out loud this time, thankfully having the sense to smother his face in Sho’s pillow before the gaps in the walls leaked sound. “In other contexts, maybe, but I do appreciate the sentiment.”

Sho touched the pad of his thumb to Jun’s cheek. “I trust you too. With all of this, I mean. I trust you completely.”

It’d been unspoken up till now, this insane promise to ford together the treacherous waters of a sexual relationship. Sho had been spending an inordinate amount of time mulling on the subject, trying to find the right opportunity to broach it—he hadn’t wanted to sound like they were in a life or death situation, that’d come across too heavy, too serious; yet he didn’t want to sound too flippant, because it _was_ terribly serious and had to be treated as such.

“I’m yours,” whispered Jun, covering Sho’s hand, which was still on Jun’s cheek, with his own. They lay there, looking into each other’s eyes, comprehending the meaning behind those words.

After a while, Sho slid his hand down to Jun’s arm, gave it a little squeeze, then checked his watch. “We should get dressed,” he said, and made a move to remove the covers, but Jun stopped him.

“Hang on.” Jun inhaled deeply. “There are some things I want you to know about me seeing that, you know,” Jun gestured to the space between them, “we’re serious about this.”

Sho waited, his pulse a thrumming crescendo.

“I was raised in a family,” said Jun. “Until I was about nine.”

Sho stopped breathing for a moment. “A family? Like, with parents and siblings?”

Jun shook his head. “No siblings. Just parents. Before they had me, Father owned a corporation, Mother was the lawyer who wrote up contracts for it. They tried to stave off their attraction but their paths kept crossing, and one day they decided to give up everything and elope.”

Families were illegal institutions, though not unheard of, since there were still people like Jun’s parents, choosing to lead the life of a fugitive than to be apart from each other. They were often weeded out by the authorities, their existence a blatant opposition of the government’s anti-pathogen policies. They sometimes made the news, usually after being discovered in the far-flung wilderness or vacant towers in areas that hadn’t been repopulated yet. They were considered criminals and most were sentenced to a lifetime of cryogenic prison, otherwise known as the Fridge. It wasn’t death and there was no pain, but it certainly wasn’t life.

Before the Incapacitation, families had been an integral part of the human facet, but after traditional reproduction practices were found to be a cause of disease, they were outlawed. National Fertility Clinics were set up in every municipality and the community system was put in place. Children were produced in clinics, then nurtured by teachers, who imparted to their charges the DTP’s core values and a region-unique system of academics. Families didn’t seem necessary, not with such a flawless arrangement. In the textbooks they’d been painted as a histrionic picture of financial and emotional woe, and Sho wondered if Jun had been happy growing up.

“Many of Father’s friends were werewolves. He’d given them jobs, saw them as equals, never asserted his godliness with them. They loved him enough to take him in when he decided to be with Mother. They took my parents deep underground, helped them build a house and supplied them with food so we could survive. After I was born, the werewolves were even more protective of our cover, since sighting a child would immediately rouse suspicion.” Jun looked at Sho. “I’ve long regarded werewolves as my people, Sho-san. It’s why I became a lycanthrosurgeon.”

Sho knew Jun was telling him all this because it was an important part of his identity, a private section of his life he hid away from everyone else. He was touched that Jun was opening up to him like that.

“I don’t have any fascinating backstory or grand secrets to share,” said Sho apologetically. “I’m just a regular guy from Kodama, very likely conceived in a glass dish.”

Jun laughed.

“How was it like? Having parents?” Sho was curious.

Jun’s eyes flicked upward in thought. “Like having very old roommates, I guess,” he said, making Sho chuckle. “They played with me and kept me from harm. They didn’t have to, you know. I was an accident, I eventually found out, so they could’ve chosen to abort me or resent me, or even deny that I was theirs, but they didn’t. They accepted me, burdensome as it was to hide a child amongst the Colony. Nine whole years, Sho-san. And there were more good times than bad.”

Sho understood what Jun was trying to say. There weren’t any children in the Colony facet; Jun would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb, if his parents and the werewolves had not kept him from prying eyes.

“I thought there’d be a deeper connection between parents and their children,” said Sho. “I mean, you actually know the people whose genes you carry. The people without whom you wouldn’t exist.”

“Well, they had a deep connection with each other.” Jun paused. “They were certainly fond of me, and disciplined me a great deal, but it was different. They tried their best to raise me the same way their teachers raised them. They didn’t try to brainwash me or anything; they just warned me that we were different, and would explain everything to me when I was old enough to understand. They were extremely intelligent people, my parents. I think they had an elaborate plan in place that’d have given me the chance to live in the human facet at some point, except they never got to execute it.”

Sho stroked Jun’s arm. “I take it you were separated from them?”

Jun nodded. “When I was nine, the authorities surrounded my house and forced my parents to surrender. No humans ever passed through that place, so it had to be betrayal of some sort.”

“Jun.” Sho squeezed Jun’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“My parents were sent to the Fridge, the werewolves who abetted them were exiled, and I, being a minor and therefore absolved from everything, was repatriated to the human facet of the community, where I spent a year in quarantine. Worst year of my life.”

“What happened?”

“It was lonely and depressing. They put me in a room—more like a cell, really—and gathered samples of my blood and body tissue through a hole in the door. And then there were the lessons.”

“Lessons?”

“Yeah. Apparently kids like me who grew up in families, the ones who are old enough to know what’s going on, have to go through this regimented programme that makes sure we know what our parents did was wrong, wrong, wrong. There was always some sort of test—my fingers would be pricked, my mouth swabbed; I had to sit for exams, not just academic ones, but ones that had me regurgitate core values and morals, and if I didn’t score full marks they would take away my leisure time or give me really shitty food.”

“Sounds like you were paying for your parents’ mistakes.”

“Not ‘mistakes’, Sho-san,” said Jun sharply, “their _decisions_.”

“Sorry,” said Sho, as he realised Jun didn’t begrudge his parents for his year in quarantine.

Jun’s set his mouth in a hard line. “I know it’s natural to interpret our suffering to be their fault, but really it’s the system’s.”

“So you blame the system.”

“I don’t _blame_ it, there’s no point in that. I blame the people who created it. Even as a child I could see things were fucked up.”

“You mean the ban on sex.”

“And romance, by proxy?” Jun shook his head. “Ridiculous. As I got older and more worldly-wise I noticed everything else too.” Jun paused. “We talk about love, Sho-san, but do we really love the Colony? Sure, we give them wages. We give them healthcare. We give them drugs to cope with the stress of hunting. We let them think they’ve got the better deal since they don’t have to suppress their base instincts. And in return they abduct people from the Third Realm to fill in the spaces of those who died doing the very same thing, just so we can continue running this country like some kind of perfect fantasy. Doesn’t that strike you as repulsive?”

Sho didn’t know what to say.

Jun cast his eyes down, sighing. “For better or for worse, my parents left an indelible mark on me. They tried to protect me from their philosophies by not speaking of them, but I witnessed the profound depths of their compassion, their bravery, their commitment to each other, their complete trust in their werewolf friends. And by producing me, they overtly challenged the system.” Jun raised his eyes to meet Sho’s. “I am disobedience, Sho-san. Rebellion. And despite all the government’s efforts to reform me, I think I am still my parents’ child.” Jun’s voice was now very soft, and Sho could tell this was Jun baring the most vulnerable part of his soul to him, confiding in Sho his most concealed secrets.

“May I ask why you’re telling me all this?” asked Sho.

“I need you to know this is what you’re in for.” Jun hid the pink of his lips, before taking a deep breath and rolling them out slowly past his teeth. “This is the real me. I’m not just the guy who’s corrupting you with sex. I’m the guy who thinks the whole ‘humans are gods’ idea is a conspiracy. I don’t believe Lethe ever elevated us in her final sermon; I think it’s just a really bad interpretation by the government and most humans accept it because we want to continue living the way we do. I also genuinely think our ecosystem is fucked up and we need to stop hunting Third Realmers, even though to the world at large that’s like saying I pity the fish I eat.” The rims of Jun’s eyes suddenly went red, and his jaw went taut. “It’s heresy, and if you don’t like who I really am, this is your chance to run.”

Sho could see how much this meant to Jun, but he decided to be candid.

“I won’t run away from you just because you’re a heretic.” Sho gave Jun a pointed look. “Look, just two hours ago I willingly put your cock in my mouth, a cock that has been up my—” Sho blinked, thinking about the hygienics once more. “Wow. You know what, I never thought it could get worse.”

“Sho-san, this and that are very different things.”

“Different how? Who’s to say having sex, when it’s a crime, is less radical than challenging the divine nature of humans? Seriously, Jun. It’s not a big deal to me,” said Sho patiently. “I didn’t decide to be with you because of your beliefs, I decided to be with you because I’m attracted to everything you are.”

“And I’m me because of my beliefs,” said Jun, sounding pained, and suddenly Sho understood.

“Listen,” said Sho, clapping a hand on Jun’s arm. “I’m not going to regret any of this. I’m not going to wake up one day, realise that I disagree with everything you believe in, and just call it quits. My heart doesn’t work like that. Please. Trust me like you said you do.”

Jun still looked sceptical, though Sho could see the tension in his mouth fade. Sho chanced a smile.

“I see why you’ve found it important to let me know, but I am perfectly unfazed. It could be because I’m resigned to breaking the law now.” Sho gestured to his naked self. “Or maybe because you’re not campaigning outside the Crystallis calling for political or religious change, so the reality of it hasn’t hit me yet.” Sho chuckled.

“What if one day I do?” asked Jun.

“Then you have until that day to convince me to come with you.”

Jun actually laughed. “Quit joking.”

“I’m not joking,” said Sho, and Jun fell silent. “Jun, I love who you are. I love that you’re true to yourself. I love that you’re honest with me. So I’m not going to run,” Sho lay his hand on the side of Jun’s neck, feeling the steady beat of his pulse. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	3. Sammy

It wasn’t difficult for Sho to come up with a reason for visiting a patient that wasn’t his own. Because Ninomiya had brought Aiba in, Sho could enter his room under the pretence of finding out Aiba’s initial symptoms. No one would suspect a thing.

It didn’t stop Sho from being nervous, however. His palms were wet enough to make the file he was holding slippery, and as he waited for the lift to reach the floor that warded Ninomiya he wondered what was in store for him. For them.

He hadn’t had time to ask Jun too much; as Jun started explaining his idea to save Aiba, Takito had knocked on the door again and asked if they were done because he really needed to start his shift, and Jun had hurriedly told Sho to meet him in Ninomiya’s room after.

The floor was quiet; Sho went up to the nurses station, scanned his staff pass, and headed for Room 502. It was a two-bed ward; one bed was empty, the other one had the curtain drawn.

“Good morning,” called Sho tentatively as he shut the door behind him. “Sorry to disturb you.”

There was a rustling from beyond the curtains. “Sakurai-sensei?” came Jun’s voice.

Sho pulled the fabric apart to reveal himself. “Hey,” he breathed, looking at Jun, then to Ninomiya, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed, hunchbacked and subdued and pale. His bandaged hands lay limply in his lap, and he had a feeding tube up his nose.

“Sakurai-sensei.” Ninomiya gave a small nod. “Jun-kun’s told me about you.”

“He’s told me about you too. He’s also told me about the plan, but stopping Aiba-san’s heart will only kill him—” Sho began, but Jun held up a hand.

“No cutting to the chase. I’ve thought about this. It’s better if we start from the beginning, just to keep things transparent,” said Jun. He took a deep breath, gesturing to Ninomiya. “I believe you’ve met briefly, but once again—this is Ninomiya Kazunari. He’s a member of my community. We’ve been friends for about three years. We… believe in the same things.”

Sho nodded to show he understood.

“About two weeks ago, Ninomiya-kun came to see me, privately, about some hallucinations he’s been having. My immediate thought was wolfsbane; he said some Third Realm human had indeed sprayed some at him on his last hunt and he wasn’t sure if it got him. Their effects can lie dormant for a while, so I administered an antidote, but the hallucinations never stopped.”

Jun exchanged glances with Ninomiya, who then looked to Sho.

“I was called up for another hunt yesterday,” said Ninomiya, “and when I got to the Third Realm, I realised what I had weren’t hallucinations. They were memories.” Ninomiya’s gaze was calm, if not faraway. “From when I was still a human there. They all came back the moment I crossed the border.”

Sho’s mouth slid open in shock. He looked at Jun. “That’s… impossible.”

“It’s not,” whispered Jun, “if you consider retrograde.”

“But retrograde isn’t medically proven,” said Sho lamely. “It’s what resentful humans cooked up to discredit the Colony.”

“But he’s warm, Sho-san. His body is actually _warm_ ,” argued Jun, and Ninomiya nodded.

“You can take my temperature if you don’t believe me,” said Ninomiya.

Sho pinched his lips against his teeth. He knew Ninomiya was warm; he hadn’t forgotten. But if Jun was right—if it was indeed retrograde—it also meant Ninomiya was mentally unstable…

“There’s no other explanation for his symptoms,” said Jun. “Besides, anyone who dared talk about retrograde was shut down. If you think about it, it might even be something the government is trying to cover up.”

“Let’s not go there,” said Sho tiredly, holding up a hand. “Fine, we’ll assume Ninomiya-san does have memories of his past life—how does that fit into this story?”

“I killed someone,” said Ninomiya, voice bland as he cut in. “The vampire who drives the train from Enenra to Issun-boushi.” Ninomiya blinked slowly. “I mean, he _was_.”

Sho felt his blood run cold. They didn’t kill their own. They _never_ killed their own. Society could be thrown into upheaval if anyone found out. Sho wondered if Jun had considered how bad the situation was: they were harbouring a criminal. Not only that, they were planning to abet him.

“He was attacking my friend,” Ninomiya went on. “My clansman. So I had to kill him. I’d taken a vow, a vow I’d sworn to carry into the afterlife.”

Sho exhaled loudly, trying to calm himself. He grabbed a chair from beside the bed and sat heavily in it. Ninomiya had used a weapon—of silver, no less, despite knowing how it would damage him—and fatally attacked someone he was supposed to love. He’d broken the law, irreparably.

“He did it to protect Aiba-san,” said Jun to Sho. “I know it sounds I’m stating the obvious; I just want everything to be clear.”

Sho managed a nod. “I don’t know how I feel about that vampire being dead, though. He was just doing his part to repopulate Yamato.”

“You don’t understand,” said Ninomiya, upset. “That vampire was already dead the moment he became a vampire!”

“That’s a resuscitated death, a perfect mimicry of life that compels us to equate it with the actual thing,” Sho started explaining, when he decided it was futile. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. The science doesn’t matter. You killed a guy. Shit.” Sho dumped his face into his hands. “You killed a guy.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be a vampire in the first place. He was kidnapped and forced to come here against his will, like all of us. Robbed of his memories. Forced to _betray his clan_ ,” hissed Ninomiya. “We’d rather die than do that, unfortunately we can’t get to it fast enough when the Colony pounces and fucking _infects_ us.”

“That doesn’t justify you murdering him,” snapped Sho. “Mercy killing is still—” Sho halted as he realised what he was about to say in front of Jun. Jun, who had helped a patient die. Sho had accepted that without too much thought because—his relationship with Jun aside—he trusted that Jun had made an informed, though still ethically dubious and completely illegal, choice; but with Ninomiya—well, Sho barely knew him.

“Never mind,” said Sho as he found Jun’s injured gaze. “Forget it.”

“Thousands of Colony members die every day, all around the DTP. Even more get hurt. And do you know why?” Ninomiya’s voice was now a wild, urgent whisper. “It’s because we’re expendable. That’s why we’re the ones hunting. We wouldn’t need doctors if we didn’t hunt. You have a job because you’ve got to fix us. To keep us appeased so we can continue to be mindless drones.”

“‘Mindless drones’ is carrying it a little too far,” said Sho, but Ninomiya wasn’t finished.

“And we have drones fixing drones, because you, doctor, have been given nothing to live for except your job, and a false promise that you will come to love everyone equally, so long as you try.” Ninomiya was snarling now, fangs bared in his agitation. “We aren’t _loved_. You aren’t loved. The Colony isn’t loved. We pick up diseases from the people we bite. We get shot at, stabbed, killed. We come hobbling back to this world, completely oblivious that we were once those people armed with silver because we didn’t want to leave our homes and families. So many unhappy Colony members blame the Third Realm for our plight, but really, they’re only trying to defend themselves.” Ninomiya slumped back against his pillows, exhausted. “Why can’t you humans just take care of things yourselves? Why do you have to rely on the Colony just because there are more of us?”

This was becoming increasingly complicated. And confusing. Ninomiya was saying things that made a lot of sense, things that made Sho feel incredibly small and powerless. He had no answers for Ninomiya’s questions. He couldn’t change anything. He glanced over at Jun, who was stifling a yawn in spite of the tension in the air.

Jun hadn’t slept in ages, Sho realised. His hair was messier than Sho had ever seen it, and his stubble cast shadows upon his features, bringing out the circles under his eyes. Jun reached for a flask Sho hadn’t noticed prior; he twisted it open, and Sho smelt coffee. Jun blew on the liquid before taking a sip. Sho and Ninomiya watched him.

“What do you stand for, Sho-san?” Jun spoke at last. “I’m sorry I’m asking this of you, but if you’re helping me it also means you’re helping us, and I think it’s only fair that Nino knows. It’s a risky operation; we all need to be on the same page.”

Sho wasn’t sure what exactly he believed. What were the lines? Did he know where to draw them? He really did want to stand with Jun, but where Jun stood was a place Sho wasn’t sure he could find his footing. He looked at Jun helplessly.

Jun sighed.

“We call them Third Realm _humans_ , Sho-san. Humans. Like us. And yet it doesn’t occur to us to equate their lives with ours? We’ve been raised in a system that has brainwashed us into thinking they are a natural resource we deserve to exploit, but I can’t live with that. They’re actual people, not a raw material.” Jun swallowed, eyes wet. “The way our world works—it robs people of their actual lives. It then gives them work they don’t ask for. Then the government sends them to the Third Realm where people are completely equipped to kill them, and we have the cheek to tell them they need to replace their own numbers?” Jun gave a sad laugh. “When they question where they come from, or why they have to hunt, the government shows them videos of a world no DTP human has ever come back from and preach about how they have it better here than there. How it’s safer here, cleaner here, with better welfare, less war.” Jun shook his head. “All because we need to keep the electricity going, the trains moving, the people fed, the babies born. What for?”

“So you can continue being gods,” said Ninomiya, his voice chilling as his eyes met Sho’s.

“Look,” said Sho, folding his fingers together and inching forward in his chair, “I understand what you guys are saying. Yesterday, on the bullet shuttle home, I met a little girl who asked to play a clapping game. ‘Colony’. Hearing the words to that as an adult… It really creeped me out. We talk about equality and universal love—that rhyme was anything but. I’m not saying that the lyrics to a clapping game reveals the true face of society, but considering how we played it thirty years ago and it’s still not banned thirty years later, it really makes me wonder how sensitive we are to these issues.”

“So you’re on our side?” There was a challenging edge to Ninomiya’s voice.

It was plain that Sho was aware of the unfair treatment to the Colony. He did resent the violence to the Third Realm humans, hell, even the demand of abstinence, now more like a vendetta against him than a general circumvention of disease. But he didn’t see the point of getting riled up about things if he couldn’t _do_ anything about it.

“For now, let’s just say I’m on Jun’s side,” Sho said finally, striving not to look at Jun. He trusted Jun when he said he hadn’t told anyone about their relationship; this situation was already prickly enough as it is, he didn’t need to complicate it further by telling Ninomiya their secret. Sho kept his eyes trained on Ninomiya, hoping those words were enough.

“Aiba-kun,” said Ninomiya after moments of silence. “He’s very important to our clan. We need to get him back there.”

Sho nodded, relieved that the difficult conversation seemed to be, at least, put on hold.

“It’s not going to be easy,” said Jun, his voice grim. “And we need to fix him first.”

“We could transition him. It’s the only way out, as far as I can see,” said Sho.

“You can’t turn him into anything,” Ninomiya immediately said, looking at Sho. “He has to remain human. We can’t have one of the clan leaders be some kind of zombie from another world.”

“Some kind of what?” asked Sho and Jun at the same time.

“Zombie,” repeated Ninomiya, “it means ‘reanimated corpse’, but never mind the terminology. Is it possible to have Aiba-kun be the same way he was? Jun-kun said something about how stopping his heart could fool the virus into thinking there was no flow and therefore no blood to take over.”

“And then what?” asked Sho, deflating in his chair. “Freezing the virus in its tracks isn’t going to remove it.” Sho gave Jun a pointed look. “I can’t believe you were thinking of just waltzing into his room and pulling the plug.”

Jun had the cheek to look embarrassed. “It seemed like the most logical idea at the time.”

“Yeah, and no wonder you were prepared to lose your job,” said Sho darkly.

“You what?” asked Ninomiya, immediately turning to Jun.

“How do you expect him to pull off something like that without ending his career?” asked Sho, trying not to sound too accusative.

“I wasn’t—”

“Let’s stay on topic,” said Jun, a notch louder than usual. “Sho-san, haven’t the blood transfusions been working?”

“It’s just keeping him alive. At this rate, he can last a week or so, but nothing more. He’s going to waste away otherwise. I think he was pretty healthy to begin with, that’s why his organs are still holding out, but it’s a matter of time before they weaken and get defeated by the virus. I really think morphing the vampiric cells he now has into revenant ones is his best shot at surviving this at all.” Sho looked at Ninomiya. “We don’t have to make him forget. We’ll change him, pretend the surgery was a failure, and tell the hospital he died on the table. We’ll dress you in scrubs and put a mask on you; you can bring him underground on the pretence of bringing him to the crematorium, and take him back to the Third Realm. There’s not much you have to worry after that; he’ll just look very pale and have a predisposition to retch at garlic. Also he might experience an uncontrollable urge to bite people, but he’ll exhibit symptoms which indicate he’s going into that phase so you’ll know when to expect it. I’ll give him a pamphlet to take home.”

Ninomiya blinked at Sho before turning to Jun. “Is this guy for real?”

“How about an antidote?” asked Jun, trying to keep things civil. “Isn’t there something that can destroy the virus?”

“There is currently no such thing. Partial drainage syndrome doesn’t work like that, and if there were an antidote, well… I would assume it would upset and confuse a lot of people to learn that a vampire can cease to become a vampire. Unless we can drain all of Aiba-san’s blood and replace it with another Third Realmer’s blood without killing him in the process, it isn’t possible to get rid of the virus in his body.”

Ninomiya looked to Jun again. “Isn’t there anyone we can go to for a second opinion?” asked Nino, his voice crisply mordant.

While Ninomiya’s tone irritated Sho, the question sparked something in the back of his mind, something that made Sho wonder, made him grasp at a flicker of possibility.

“Actually,” breathed Sho, recalling the book he’d been reading just the night before, “I think there is.”

***

Being heads of departments, neither Sho nor Jun had an ER rotation for the rest of the month, which meant they were able to request for vacation time to make the hike to Bunbuku-chagama, albeit on their own dime.

Ohno Satoshi was a bit of a legend; photos of his face were never published, no one knew which community he was originally from, he never worked at any of the large hospitals, and for his entire career the Yamato Ministry of Health had kept him hidden in their labs, working on whatever project they commissioned him to. Most of his fans believed that this was because Ohno was a prized asset: many other regions were trying to get to him, hoping to attract him with lucrative offers and have him lead their medical research. Yamato thus erased all of Ohno’s public identity, wanting to shield him from temptation, and keep him for themselves.

Ohno had been regularly publishing papers, with the occasional book every other year or so, until it was suddenly announced in the papers a year ago that he was retiring after three decades of distinguished contribution to public health. While Sho didn’t know what had happened to Ohno after, he did know that Ohno replied to fan-letters—these replies were Sho’s pride and joy, all written in what was presumably Ohno’s own hand, illuminating exits to medical conundrums Sho had encountered. It’d started back when Sho was still a young boy, when he’d first gotten interested in medicine; he’d wanted to see how Ohno solved mysteries like the revenant with the ballistic movement of her limbs, the vampire with the inoperable liver cyst. Ohno had shared his theories and approaches readily and earnestly, filled the pages with explanations and wonderfully detailed diagrams.

The publishing firm that put out Ohno’s books was where Sho had sent his letters, and Ohno’s replies had been sent through them as well. Sho figured that they had to have an inkling of where Ohno was since they had to put royalties into his bank account, and tried his luck by calling them and explaining how he was indebted to Ohno and had to meet him at all costs. They were wary at first, but after a long bout of Sho pontificating about how they were simultaneously not showing him love and denying Ohno an already overdue exaltation, the firm finally relented and told Sho the doctor was living in solitude in a cottage by a coast. That was all they could reveal, and they were very sorry.

There weren’t many places in Yamato that fit that description, since there were only three cities bordering the sea. Because Ohno hated the cold—an astute fan observation on Sho’s part—they could rule Namahage out, and Ryuuguu-jou, while famous for its waterfront, was thoroughly urban and teeming with communities. The publishing firm had said Ohno was ‘living in solitude’, which was a term denoting independent living and not an anti-social behaviour; it meant the place Ohno was staying had to have enough land for someone to live away from a community, and there was no way anyone could do that in Ryuuguu-jou. The semi-rural Bunbuku-chagama seemed like the most probable choice.

It was down south and would take an hour on the fastest train. Ninomiya insisted on coming.

“He doesn’t trust me,” whispered Sho to Jun as they hurried towards the platform, Ninomiya hanging somewhere behind them as he ambled through the crowd with complete disregard of the time. Granted, he was a werewolf and could summon his powers of speed and therefore still make the train.

“It’s just the circumstances,” explained Jun, adjusting the straps of his backpack. “Nino usually warms up to people really easily. It’s been hard for him, with the—” Jun motioned his hands around his head. “You’d have liked him, if not for that.”

“Well, I’m sorry then, that his condition brings out his inner dick.”

“ _Sho-san_.”

“What? It’s true. You shouldn’t have discharged him,” grumbled Sho. “Should’ve put laxatives in his feeding tube when I had the chance, honestly.”

“You’re being a child!”

“Excuse me, _he’s_ the one who’s been petulant and rude?”

“And steadfast and brave,” reminded Jun.

“At what cost?” asked Sho ominously, unable to forget the vampire that died.

Jun gave up and walked ahead, ending the conversation. He took out his ticket to check the carriage number before boarding the train. Sho followed suit, having bought the seat beside Jun’s.

Ninomiya was already in his seat by the window when they got there, a feat accomplished no doubt with his superspeed. (“Show-off,” Sho couldn’t help muttering under his breath.) Besides his bandaged hands and sallow complexion, he looked none the worse for wear. After Jun kept his bag in the overhead compartment, Sho stepped aside to let him get to the middle seat, before taking the seat by the aisle.

“Jun-kun, question.” Ninomiya looked to the rows behind and in front of them to check that no one was listening. He whispered something in Jun’s ear before presenting Jun with his left hand. Jun took it, prised apart the layers of gauze with his finger. He ran it over Ninomiya’s palm, pressed down gently, then asked him if it hurt, to which Ninomiya said ‘just a little’. Jun frowned, then whispered something back. Ninomiya pursed his lips at Jun’s reply, keeping his eyes on his hands.

When they leant back into their seats, Sho raised his eyebrows quizzically at them. Ninomiya gave a slight nod to Jun, who then said into Sho’s ear:

“Can’t make a diagnosis with the little I know about you-know-what, but seems like he’s healing faster. He says his speed isn’t as enhanced as it should be, either.”

If Ninomiya was actually turning human—Third Realm human, to be precise—it also meant he would cease to become a werewolf, which entailed a number of concerns. Sho looked at Ninomiya for a beat before leaning in close, pretending to pick up something by Jun’s feet. Ninomiya hesitated for a moment before copying Sho.

“If you lose your scent, you lose your signal, and it will come up on the screens of the population registry immediately,” said Sho in an undertone. “If the signal’s lost while you were out hunting in Third Realm, you’re safe. But if you lose your signal here, the authorities will think you died within the DTP, and they will zoom in to your last known location to investigate. You sure you want to come with us?”

“Can’t actually hide out in the Third Realm, can I?” Ninomiya replied. “Traitor’s blood running in my veins and all that. If I go home, or if you guys kept me in the hospital, they’ll get me there too. Who knows what they do to people like me? Both ways, I’m done for.” Ninomiya licked his lips before taking a shallow breath. “Right now, at least I’m a moving target. The longer I stay alive, the higher the chances of Aiba-kun making it back home, because you two sure as hell aren’t going to get him there. No offence, Jun-kun.”

“None taken,” whispered Jun. “Sorry we can’t go with you, but I promise you I’ll get you guys across at all costs.”

Sho conceded Ninomiya’s point and straightened, leaning back into his seat. He wondered if any humans had willingly crossed over to the Third Realm, and for a brief moment entertained the idea of helping Ninomiya smuggle Aiba past the border—the poor guy was so skinny, he looked like he could hardly lift a chopstick without his werewolf superpowers.

There was one big reason why humans of the DTP never went to the Third Realm, even though it was perfectly accessible via the recesses of the underground Colony facet. DTP humans had flawless physical makeups: one that was resistant to disease, meaning natural causes of death were impossible. The viruses that created the three species of the Colony had no effect on them either. While this perfection had been periodically compromised during the Incapacitation, largely due to Lethe’s ascension—she had literally risen into the sky and left their world, taking along with her her divine protection—the humans were able to engineer new humans of the original state with modern reproductive methods. Furthermore, throughout the Incapacitation, no humans had turned into non-humans, prompting more research into Colony health and medicine. Despite the devastating reduction in numbers, there was still a silver lining, as the era ushered in medical advancement and new discoveries.

Going into the Third Realm, however, would immediately break down the humans’ perfect immunity. The DTP observed this by sending incorrigible exiles to live in Third Realm territories, then getting Colony members to bring back reports of what happened to them. Sho wasn’t sure how this treatment of the exiles fit in into the theme of universal love, since they were sending them to a place that promised death; perhaps thinking about these things was where he needed to start, to more objectively consider his perceptions of the society that had practically given him everything he had.

***

Sho felt someone poking his knee, and he roused to find his face buried into the side of Jun’s neck. His heart stopped as he drew back in horror. They hadn’t just given their relationship away, had they?

He immediately threw a glance at Ninomiya, but he wasn’t looking at Sho.

“Rise and shine, you useless immortal,” muttered Ninomiya as he continued poking Jun awake. “We’re almost there.”

Sho tried not to look too relieved as he shook Jun’s shoulder. Jun cracked open an eyelid. “What time is it?”

“Quarter to five,” said Sho, standing up to reach the overhead compartment.

“I thought you had a nap after you got me discharged?” asked Ninomiya.

“I did,” Jun yawned, “but I hadn’t slept the night before and a four-hour nap doesn’t cut it.” He said his thanks as Sho passed him his bag, seemingly unaware of how close they had been when they’d been asleep.

Sho saw a large tote bag sitting deep in the compartment. “Ninomiya-san,” he called, “is that bag yours?”

Ninomiya gave an impish smile, cocked his head, and made a grabby hand.

It was cute, Sho had to give him that.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” asked Jun, pointing to Ninomiya’s opening and closing of his fingers.

“Hurts as much as it did just now.” Ninomiya shrugged. As he took the bag from Sho he said: “Also, don’t call me ‘Ninomiya-san’. Just Nino would do.”

“Okay,” said Sho awkwardly, weirdly gratified that Ninomiya— _Nino_ —was in a mood better than two hours before. Sho cleared his throat. “Then I guess you can call me Sho.”

“Nah, that’s too familiar. Even _he_ doesn’t call you ‘Sho’, and he knows you better than I do,” said Nino, pointing to Jun, who was smiling at the exchange. “I’ll figure it out. Give me some time.”

Sho gave a terse smile in answer, then shouldered his bag and made for the door as the train slowed down.

As much as it was nice that Nino was more friendly than before, it didn’t mean it was comforting. It could’ve been an agreeable vertex of a mood swing. Sho had no doubt that Nino was being genuine, but if the symptoms of the retrograde myth were anything to go by, Nino was suffering a pretty serious psychological disorder that didn’t yet have a name. The variety of moods Nino had exhibited ever since he’d burst into the resuscitation room was worrying, and judging by how he’d used the term ‘we’ to refer to both his Colony identity and his Third Realm human one, Nino definitely had the memories of both his lives in his head.

Sho pitied him.

“So what makes you think this Ohno-sensei will help us?” asked Nino, falling into step beside Sho as he walked down the platform.

“I just had a feeling,” said Sho, looking at his surroundings, trying to find his bearings. Bunbuku-chagama was home to the Yamato Science Museum, the very place that had enraptured Sho as a kid to a point he got left behind on his field trip, and even though the town’s main station was architecturally modest, its floor was decorated with a painted path of realistic wildlife, flowers and colourful minerals, drawing passengers towards the exit.

“You brought us here on a _feeling_?” asked Nino incredulously.

Sho sniffed. “Technically, you asked to come.”

“Sho-san,” Jun hastily interrupted, “how are we going to find Ohno-sensei? It’s not like we have a photo to show people.”

Sho looked at his companions. “Have you guys ever been fans of anyone before?”

“There’s that cafeteria lady—every time I buy the kvansher salad bowl she asks if I want those fragrant red seeds that I like,” said Jun. “She’s great.”

Sho rolled his eyes.

“I’m thinking poets, authors, idols, whatever,” said Sho. “Someone you’ve actually invested a lot of time finding out about. Someone you don’t know personally, but genuinely like because of the work they’ve done.”

“I had a favourite actress once,” chirped Nino. He paused. “Well, now that I actually remember stuff I know she’s _still_ my favourite actress.” Nino closed his eyes and uttered a reverent whisper that sounded a lot like ‘Yuko’.

“Okay—you know how you have feelings about these people? Like how they do something or say something, and you’d go: ‘Yes, that’s exactly how I thought they’d react!’, stuff like that?”

“Yeah,” Nino nodded, “sure.”

“That’s what I’m going on about,” said Sho. “It’s how I feel about Ohno-sensei, and I think he’s not the sort who’d just abandon medicine and stop helping people just because he’s in retirement. Think about it—Bunbuku-chagama is practically still a village. How many doctors do you think will be here, and how many will be excellent?”

“People would have heard of him,” said Jun, drawing the conclusion.

“But there’s still a possibility he won’t be what you expect him to be,” said Nino.

“I’m willing to take the chance.” Sho shrugged. “Come on. Let’s go.”

***

The chief curator at the Yamato Science Museum tended to hang around the entrance welcoming visitors, and he beamed, surprise written on his face, when Sho walked in right before the museum closed for the day.

“Hi, Murao-san,” greeted Sho, bowing slightly as he crossed the threshold.

“Sakurai-kun, it’s been a while!” The curator grasped Sho’s hand in both of his. Murao was still as kindly and warm as Sho remembered.

“Almost two years,” said Sho regretfully, “I haven’t had the time to come since I changed hospitals.”

“Yes, I understand.” Murao smiled. “Big-shot doctor and all. My, it seems like just yesterday you were this tall,” Murao levelled his hand by his hip, “and came to the office saying: ‘Good afternoon, I’m a lost child. May I borrow your phone?’ You were the most grownup person in the room, it really threw us off.”

Sho laughed. “Brings back memories. Oh, right—Murao-san, these are my friends, Matsumoto and Ninomiya.”

Jun and Nino angled their heads as they said hello.

“We’re on a little expedition,” explained Sho. “We’ve come all this way for help on a tough medical case, and I was hoping you’d have an idea about the doctor we’re looking for.”

“Me?” asked Murao.

“Yes. You’ve lived here a long time, and you head the only establishment Bunbuku-chagama is well-known for; if there’s anyone who has a handle on the local news, it’s you.”

“Right. I guess so.” Murao looked terribly flattered. “Who’s this someone, then?”

“He’s a well-known physician. Ohno Satoshi. Ever heard of him?”

A crease appeared in Murao’s brow. “I don’t think so. You know how we humans rarely need doctors…”

“Have you heard any Colony members in the area talking about a very skilled doctor, then?”

“Well, we really only employ that handful of Colony staff…” Murao gave Sho a sorry look. “I’m not being very helpful, am I?”

“No, it’s okay—”

“Maybe if you could give me some physical attributes,” said Murao, sounding determined. “How old is he? What kind of build, what colour are his eyes, his hair…”

Sho was stumped. “Nobody’s actually really seen him, so I really don’t have anything to give on the looks, but he retired after thirty years so I’m guessing he’s almost fifty now?”

“If he started just like everyone else, that is,” added Jun. “Most of us start treating patients at eighteen, but that timeline’s not set in stone.”

Just then, Murao’s face lit up as he spotted somebody.

“Sammy!” Murao called, and the person who’d been hurrying towards the exit halted before turning very slowly to face them.

It was a man around Sho’s age, round-faced and quite small-built, not any larger than Nino. He was human, as far as Sho could tell. (No red eyes; no black nails; tan as toffee.)

“Murao-san,” greeted the man, before nodding at Sho and his friends.

“Sammy’s rather new to Bunbuku-chagama, but he’s got many friends in the Colony facet, he might know,” said Murao, before guiding the man by the elbow to the group. “Sakurai-kun, this is, um, Sammy-kun. Sammy-kun, this is Sakurai Sho, he was a frequent visitor to the museum in his childhood.” Murao then laughed, his hand flying to the back of his head to rub it in embarrassment. “I haven’t ever had to introduce you, Sammy-kun. I don’t mean to laugh at your name, but it is rather unconventional.”

“I get that a lot,” said Sammy, and he looked at Sho and the others. “My paternal ancestry isn’t of this region, you know how it is.” Sammy hesitated for a moment, not knowing what else to say, before waving the plastic giraffe hanging off the lanyard around his neck. It had the words ‘V.I.P’ on it. “So, uh… did you have one of these too?”

Sho gave a polite smile. “The annual passes were less fancy back in my day.”

“Ask him about Ohno, Your Geekness,” came Nino’s voice from behind him, and Sho straightened, clearing his throat.

“Sammy-san. We’re looking for someone, possibly middle-aged, a certain Ohno Satoshi. He’s a doctor. Have you heard of him?”

“No.” Sammy blinked. “Not at all.”

“Do you know of anyone who might know him?”

“No.” Sammy looked at Murao. “I should go now. Sorry.”

Sho excused himself from Murao and hurried out of the museum entryway, Nino and Jun right behind him.

“That’s not suspicious at all,” muttered Sho to his companions as he walked, making sure to keep Sammy in sight.

“So we’re following him, right?” asked Jun.

“Of course. He knows something,” said Sho. Right before Sammy passed the gates of the museum, he turned around to check over his shoulder, and the three slipped behind a column of pyrite.

“Crap. We could lose him, if we keep hiding behind stuff,” said Jun, back pressed against the stone.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Nino, his head at an angle. He wrinkled his nose before looking at the other two men. “I think I’ve caught his scent. Let’s go.”

***

They’d walked for close to an hour from the museum, the nearest community about two miles behind. Sammy never stopped walking, not even when some people tried to stop him for conversation. All he gave was a terse nod, and that was if he heard them. He was absorbed in his thoughts most of the way.

And then they saw it—a cottage by the coast, a sturdy-looking wooden dwelling propped up by stilts that were pitched into the land beneath the water, linked to the shore by a long, zig-zagging bridge. The cottage looked like it was just big enough for one person. Sho ducked behind a tree, spying on Sammy. He was making for the cottage.

“The house fits the description,” said Jun from behind Sho.

“Maybe this Sammy knows Ohno-sensei,” said Sho, turning his head to look at Jun. “Wait a minute—where’s Nino?”

And then they realised Nino was up ahead, sauntering up to Sammy, tapping him on the shoulder just as he started making his way up the bridge. Sho groaned. Nino was taking matters into his own hands. Again.

“He’s not himself, he’s really not himself,” Jun kept muttering as they hurried over to where Nino was standing.

“—obviously lied to us,” Nino was saying as they approached, and Sammy was rooted to the spot, staring at him. “Bring us to him, you snake.”

“ _Nino_ ,” said Sho sharply. “Stop it.”

“Sorry about that,” Jun stepped between Nino and Sammy. “We don’t mean any harm. We’re just looking for Ohno-sensei.”

Sammy remained expressionless. “Fine,” he said. “I do know him.”

“So he’s here?” asked Sho. 

“He moved here the same time I did,” said Sammy grudgingly. “Why are you looking for him?”

“We’re…” Sho looked at Jun, who nodded encouragingly. “I’m a doctor, and I have a tough case on my hands I thought he’d be able to help with.”

Sammy pitched his eyebrows high, looking sceptical. “You from out of town?”

Sho nodded.

“Where?” asked Sammy.

“Our hospital’s in Izanami,” said Sho.

Sammy gave a heavy sigh. “All the way down here just to look for him?”

“You don’t understand. He’s brilliant. A next-level genius. We need to meet with him,” said Sho, trying not to beg. “There’s no one else who can help us.”

“…Fine,” Sammy eventually said. “Come on.”

Sho gushed his thanks, Jun gave Sammy a bow (while Nino continued giving Sammy the stink eye) and they all got onto the bridge. A few feet away from the door, Sammy stopped them.

“Wait outside,” advised Sammy. “He’s a bit private, so let me talk to him first.”

“Sure,” answered Sho.

Sammy gave the door a rhythmic knock before sliding it open. “It’s our special knock,” explained Sammy. “He lets me come and go as I please, but this knock basically tells him I’m not a burglar.”

“Right.”

“Okay,” Sammy gave a nod, “I’ll come out and get you guys once he’s understood the situation.” Sammy entered the house and slid the door closed.

Sho was suddenly nervous because he was going to meet Ohno Satoshi, his idol and role model for the past 20-odd years. He smoothed down his hair before looking at Jun, whose mouth was open in a silent laugh, completely on to him. Sho turned his nose up at Jun and went on to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“Now, this is just a what-if,” said Nino, eyeing the door, “how do we know the house isn’t empty, Ohno was never here, and this Sammy’s not some cold-blooded axe murderer who knew we were following him all along?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s warm-blooded,” said Sho, the same time Jun asked, worriedly:

“Is ‘axe murderer’ what I think it is?”

Nino went quiet. He studied Sho and Jun, mouth set in a line. 

“Sometimes you Crystal Planeteers fucking _blow my mind_ with how sheltered you are,” he said.

“What did you just call us?” asked Jun, wrinkling his nose.

“Your world looks like a fucking big-ass crystal. We can see you, from the Third Realm.”

“It doesn’t make us sheltered,” retorted Sho. “You Third Realmers are just too used to violence, what with your clan wars and blood vows.”

“I am wasting my breath,” said Nino decidedly, throwing up his hands. “You guys aren’t listening to me.”

“We are, Nino,” said Jun tiredly, though he was looking straight at Sho. Sho knew why; Nino ‘wasn’t himself’, Sho shouldn’t be goading him into an argument.

“There’s one of Sammy, and three of us,” said Sho, changing the subject. “We’ll be fine, even if Ohno-sensei turns out to be on his side.”

“What if Ohno-sensei doesn’t have the answers?” asked Nino. “What if we can’t find a way to save Aiba-kun?”

“Then we have to go with Sho-san’s way,” said Jun gravely. “Make him a revenant.”

Nino grimaced and turned away, fixing his gaze on the water.

The sun was setting, and the air was getting chilly. Sho folded his arms to wrap himself in his own heat, before throwing a look Jun’s way. Jun gave him a small, melancholic smile. Sho nodded, wanting to reassure Jun.

They’d be fine. This was all going to pass. They’d find their answers, get back to the hospital, fix Aiba up, send him down to the Colony facet with Nino, give him a week to recuperate, and have Nino take him home. No one had to know Jun was involved. Thankfully Sho had intervened and destroyed Jun’s original plan. If he’d taken Aiba off the machines, it would’ve been hard to cover up.

“Guys, don’t you think he’s taking a little long?” asked Jun, peering at the entrance.

“We should be patient,” said Sho. “He said Ohno-sensei’s a private person, didn’t he?”

Nino frowned and sniffed the air. He edged closer to the cottage, pointed his nose at the door and took another whiff. “Something’s not right.” Nino slid open the door.

“Nino!” Sho hissed. “Don’t be rude!”

“Shut up,” said Nino, smelling the air inside the house. “There’s only one scent here.” He cast a look past his shoulder at Sho and Jun. “Sammy’s scent.”

Jun took a deep breath and squeezed past Nino and the doorjamb to enter the house. “Sammy-san?” he called, venturing in deeper, prompting Nino and Sho to follow him into the living room.

There was an audible splashing coming from somewhere out back, and the three of them followed the sound, crossing the room into the kitchen. The sound was coming from beneath their feet, and there was another door, a smaller one in the floor, which Jun yanked open, revealing a ladder that led into the waters below.

Sho shoved a windowpane up to look outside, where he saw Sammy wading out to a boat tied to a stake. He carried a parcel on his back, wrapped in wax paper to keep the water out.

There was only one way to interpret this: Sammy was escaping.

“Sammy!” Sho yelled. “Come back!”

Just then Sho saw Sammy being dragged underwater, and he froze, until the next moment when he resurfaced again, gasping and thrashing as a pair of skinny arms held on to him.

Nino.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nino’s screech was bright as day as it travelled across the tide, which was, thankfully, low.

“Get off me! I’ve already given you everything!”

“You brought us here!” Nino screamed back.

“Murao-san offered me up for slaughter!” yelled Sammy.

“I don’t understand!” bellowed Nino.

“Murao-san drew your attention to me,” Sammy moaned. “I tried to be weird so you guys wouldn’t think I was him… Showed you my giraffe...”

“Why the fuck did you lead us to this house?!” Nino wasn’t having any of it.

“I had to get my stuff!”

“What stuff?!” Nino was relentless.

“Things I needed to survive in the wilderness!”

“ _Huh_?”

“Why are you doing this? I gave you everything!” Sammy wailed as he went limp, and Sho suddenly realised Nino had been dragging Sammy back all along, because they were now very close to the cottage.

“He’s nuts!” Nino yelled at Sho, who was still looking from the window. “Fucking nuts!”

Sho turned to look for Jun, who was standing by the kitchen drawers. He jumped when he realised Jun was holding a very sharp knife in front of his face, scrutinising its gleaming blade.

“Sho-san...” Jun beckoned Sho over to show him a collection of knives he’d retrieved from the drawers. They came in different sizes, obviously serving various culinary purposes, and some were nestled in boxes with thank-you notes and wishes for ‘Sensei to enjoy cooking’. Several of them bore Sammy’s name, but Jun was directing Sho’s line of sight to a particular set that bore another. 

“‘Ohno Satoshi’,” the pair chorused as they read the calligraphic inscription engraved onto the blades. Their eyes met, and they each drew a deep breath.

 _Sammy_ was Ohno Satoshi.


	4. One step

Sho felt like he was walking through a dream. No, actually it was more of a nightmare. Here they were, in the kitchen of a genius omni-disciplinary physician (who turned out to be _young_ , what the fuck), waiting for their retrograding werewolf-murderer friend to wrangle said physician back into his own house, which he’d tried to escape because he thought they were after him—for what, they had no idea.

How was this his life?

“Come on,” said Sho, offering a hand to Sammy—no, _Ohno_ —as Nino put him back on the ladder up to the kitchen. Ohno looked up into Sho’s face and scowled, rejecting Sho’s assist.

“What the hell do you guys want?” asked Ohno as he made his way up the steps by himself, Nino following behind him. He snatched up the afghan Jun was holding out to him, swaddling himself and glaring at them.

“You’re Ohno Satoshi-sensei, right?” Sho found the need to confirm.

Ohno’s glare remained suspicious. “You’re not from the Ministry of Health?”

“We’re from Yamato General Hospital. This is… This is quite the unusual circumstance.” Sho let out a nervous laugh. “We’ve come to you for help.”

Ohno’s frown deepened, and Sho took it as his cue to go on.

“I’m the Head of Necrosurgery at Yamato General. Yesterday morning we had a partial drainage syndrome patient come in, and I can’t turn him into a revenant because…” Sho hesitated, unsure if he should explain any further.

Returning Aiba to his world alive, when he hadn’t had the waters administered to him, was incredibly illegal. Sho was in the process of breaking so many laws he really couldn’t care less, but involving Ohno wasn’t something he’d intended to do. He’d envisioned a search, maybe a couple of days long given the size of the town, before finding a dignified, middle-aged man sitting in a chair on the deck of his seaside cottage reading a medical journal. Sho would then call out to him and tell him how he’d inspired Sho to dedicate his life to medicine, and Ohno would beam at him and welcome him into his house, after which they would have a lengthy discussion about the procedures involved to save Aiba, because Ohno-sensei was altruistic and perfect and would never turn his greatest fan away. There’d even been hot cocoa involved.

“We need him human,” said Jun, helping to finish Sho’s sentence. “Please don’t ask us why.”

Ohno wiped his face with a corner of the afghan. “Why me?”

“Because you’re _Ohno-sensei_!” Sho flung his arms in the air, exasperated. “I’ve looked up to you for a better part of my life and I know what you have done, what you can do. You would know how to save him!”

“I don’t get it; if you’re not with the Ministry, how did you find me?” The doubt was still heavy in Ohno’s voice.

“Why are you still on that?” growled Nino, dripping water all over Ohno’s kitchen as he opened cupboards and drawers, looking for something to dry himself. “They just want to ask you some questions about _medicine_. What does it matter, whether or not we belong to the government?”

“Could you stop walking around? My entire floor’s wet.” Ohno shot Nino a look of disgust before opening a drawer and throwing a clean dishtowel at him. He turned to Sho and Jun. 

“You tell me how you found me, and then I’ll hear your out,” said Ohno stubbornly, walking to his closet and pulling out a fresh change of clothes. He released a catch and a curtain fell over the kitchen entrance, giving him some privacy.

“We pestered the publishing firm that pays your royalties and they told us you were living in solitude in a coastal town,” Jun immediately launched into explanation. “Sakurai-sensei here, who’s obsessed over you since he was a kid—I swear he’s read ‘Undead Haematology for the Young Physician’ like a thousand times—knows you don’t like the cold, so it had to be either Ryuuguu-jou or Bunbuku-chagama. Since Ryuuguu-jou has a population density higher than the capital, id est they have the most community towers per square kilometre, there was no way you could live apart from everyone else there. We decided Bunbuku-chagama was the next best choice. Also, please don’t be angry with your publishers. Sakurai-sensei can be an annoyingly persuasive man.”

Sho couldn’t help but throw an admiring look Jun’s way.

Ohno flung the curtain aside. He was now fully dressed, and his expression showed he wasn’t completely convinced. “But you tracked me down at the museum.”

Sho sighed. “I only visited the museum because I’m friends with Murao-san, and thought he’d know something. I didn’t expect to meet you.”

“You can say it was fate,” said Jun, proffering Ohno a wry smile.

Ohno was about to reply when there was an audible thud from where Nino had been standing, followed by a blood-curdling keening.

It took Sho a second to realise what was happening: Nino was on the floor, his body twisted at an impossible angle, his face a picture of suffering.

Jun gave a few choice curse words as he dropped to his knees, taking Nino’s shoulders and gently turning him onto his back so he was flat. Nino was convulsing badly, and his lips had turned blue.

“He’s very cold,” said Jun, touching Nino’s skin. “Looks like hypothermia, but why is he having a seizure?”

“What is he?” asked Ohno, checking Nino’s irises, then incisors.

“Werewolf,” answered Jun.

Ohno grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped through the first layer of Nino’s bandages. He unravelled the dressing to reveal Nino’s wound—it had turned waxy and pink, looking a lot less gruesome compared to a day before. Ohno glanced at it briefly before checking Nino’s nails. They were taupe instead of black. Unusual.

“Take off his clothes and dry him,” said Ohno grimly, hurrying into the living room. “I have something for him.” He then exited the kitchen into another room. As he switched on the lights Sho could see rows upon rows of glass bottles in various sizes, set on shelves against the wall.

Ohno had a pharmacy in his cottage.

Sho proceeded to help Jun undress Nino, who was still convulsing, when Jun gasped, realising something.

“Nino used his powers in the water. To capture Sammy.”

“You mean Ohno-sensei,” corrected Sho.

“Whatever. That must’ve sparked the reaction.”

“How?”

“Too much adrenaline flowing through the system, overtaxing his body… His blood running at a temperature hostile to the werewolf virus, which would’ve kept him thermoregulated in cold water, though his werewolf functions are already compromised…”

Ohno came back with a syringe of something, and he angled its needle into Nino’s neck. It took a few seconds before Nino stopped convulsing, his body relaxing under Sho’s and Jun’s hands. “Get him on the bed,” Ohno headed to the living room, where he flicked on a switch, and a gentle whirring was heard. “I’ve turned on the heat pump, but it’s going to take a while. One of you should get under the covers with him. Warm him up.”

Sho’s eyes narrowed. “Um, Sensei—he’s going to be _naked_?”

“I am trying very hard not to say: ‘That’s never really stopped you’,” whispered Jun as Ohno came back from the living room with a blanket, which he dropped at Sho’s feet.

“Move him,” was all Ohno said, before retreating into the pharmacy once more.

“It’s weird to get into bed with _someone else_ ,” hissed Sho, helping Jun to turn Nino onto his side as Nino whined pitiably. Sho averted his eyes from Nino’s bare body. “Could you at least lend him some clothes first?” Sho called to Ohno.

“Stop being a prissy prude!” came Ohno’s retort.

Together Sho and Jun rolled Nino onto the blanket, and without much effort (Nino was worryingly light) they carried him on the makeshift stretcher into the living room.

“There are more blankets under the bed,” Ohno called, right before an alarming clangour sounded from the pharmacy. “Shit. Can one of you come in here, please? I need some help.”

Jun shot to his feet and made for the room where Ohno was. “Keep Nino warm,” he said to Sho, patting Sho’s shoulder encouragingly.

“Oh, fuck you,” said Sho miserably, rising to his feet with his arms full of blankets. Jun laughed before hanging back at the door to whisper:

“Sure. Make an appointment.”

“You competitive turd!” Sho let out a frustrated cry. Jun always liked having the last word, and it was usually sexy, but not now. It made Sho very uncomfortable to be this close to anyone who wasn’t Jun. He’d come to associate such proximity with intimacy and a fierce sexual desire, and it worried Sho severely that he’d get confused and experience a hard-on while holding a naked, warm-blooded Nino. Sho didn’t want Jun to misunderstand (or Ohno to witness it, or Nino to feel it).

Willing himself to be professional, because that’s what all this was, Sho unfurled the blankets and lay them on Nino, took off his shoes, then his jacket, and climbed into the bed.

Nino moaned. Sho turned his eyes up at the ceiling and prayed.

There was still an inch between him and Nino, prompting Sho to ask: “Are you warm enough?” Nino didn’t respond, though he was still taking shallow breaths. Sho put his fingers against Nino’s neck. His pulse was fast; that didn’t bode well. Sho looked at his watch as he counted off Nino’s heartbeats.

“His pulse rate is a hundred and twenty BPM,” said Sho, raising his voice so Jun and Ohno could hear.

“We’ll be out in a moment!” answered Jun.

Sho closed the gap between himself and Nino, gingerly putting an arm around Nino’s waist. He moved his hand up and down Nino’s torso, feeling Nino’s ribs under his skin. Nino’s eyes were darting back and forth under his lids; his lips, slightly parted, were quivering. Sho instinctively stopped his hand over Nino’s heart, feeling for a change in pulse, before realising his pinky was resting atop Nino’s nipple. Sho snatched his hand away guiltily, knowing that for a fleeting moment he’d been tempted to stroke it.

“Sho-kun?” croaked Nino, his eyes fluttering open the moment Jun came back with an intravenous stand and tray with a couple of IV bags settled in it. Sho flew out of the bed, feeling his face go hot.

“Good, you’re back,” Sho spluttered. Jun quickly threw the blanket Sho had pulled off the bed back under Nino’s body.

“Relax, Sho-san.” There was odd gleam in Jun’s eye. “Help me with this.” Jun held out the tray, and Sho obediently took the IV bags and hung them up. Jun put on a pair of gloves, took Nino’s arm and starting locating a suitable vein.

“Right hand,” said Nino weakly. “I’m left-handed.”

“Oh, you’re awake!” said Jun, surprised.

“What happened?” asked Nino.

“You’re in retrograde,” came Ohno’s reply, as he stepped back into the room with a tray of his own. “Matsumoto-sensei has updated me of your symptoms: a human body temperature, accelerated healing, diminishing preternatural abilities. Have you noticed any significant weight loss or drastic changes in mood lately?”

“No.” The glare Nino was mustering was impressively defiant given his current state. Jun, however, was mouthing an exaggerated ‘Yes’ at Ohno as he twisted his body away from Nino, pretending to be leaving the bed.

“No matter. Your fingernails have turned grey, your fangs are almost gone, and you had a reaction when you tried employing your powers in an unusual environment, which means your pituitary gland is seriously fucked up,” said Ohno unfeelingly. “When was your last hunt?”

“Two mornings ago,” said Nino sulkily.

“And when did your first symptoms appear?”

Nino clamped his mouth shut. Jun sighed and answered for him. “At least two weeks ago, Sensei.”

Ohno took a moment to calculate the days. “You’re more than three-quarters of the way there, then.” Ohno’s voice seemed to lose its edge. “You see flashes of your past life every time you blink, and you remember all your dreams, which are as vivid as life, yes? You remember every sensation?”

Nino turned his face away from the room, and Sho felt pity welling within him. It must be hell, if Nino was feeling the way Ohno was describing it.

“There’s a vaccine that can help you, Ninomiya-san,” said Ohno, walking to his closet and pulling out some clothes for Nino. “It can help your partial drainage syndrome patient too.” Ohno looked at Sho.

“Wait,” Sho found Ohno’s word choice odd, “a _vaccine_?”

Ohno gave a protracted sigh. “Let me give this guy something for his pituitary gland, and then I’ll fill you in.”

***

The episode with Nino seemed to lift Ohno’s doubts about why they were really there, and Ohno’s revelation about the vaccine erased the others’ misgivings about whether or not they could trust him with the truth about why they needed to find a cure for Aiba.

“But he’s already affected,” said Sho, as they talked about how to save Aiba, “what good would a vaccine do?”

“It’s a therapeutic vaccine,” answered Ohno.

“What’s that?” asked Nino.

“A vaccine which also functions as a cure,” answered Ohno. “It basically kicks all types of viruses out, including the mutation virus that the Colony carries. Turns you guys back into humans.” Ohno nodded to Nino. “Which is why I said, it can help you.”

“But I’m turning human anyway,” said Nino. “Wouldn’t the vaccine be a waste on me?”

“It’ll kill the werewolf virus within minutes, cut short your suffering,” said Ohno. “You’d feel better sooner.”

“And it would also send the authorities to you instantly,” Sho pointed out. “The moment you stop being a werewolf the Population Bureau will know, remember?”

“Ah.”

“Hang on. Why would anyone want to make something to stop Colony members from staying a Colony species?” asked Jun, puzzled. “Our population would take a massive hit.”

“The vaccine wasn’t meant for the Colony. It was meant for us,” said Ohno simply, adjusting himself in the chair beside the bed where Nino was still resting (now fully clothed), Jun and Sho opposite them on the sofa.

“Humans?” asked Jun.

Ohno nodded. “The government was afraid that there’d be another Incapacitation. About fifty years ago they started a secret project to formulate a vaccine that would protect us against every virus imaginable.”

“So… including the viruses that make Colony members who they are?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“There were humans who’d been around for a couple hundred years who volunteered their bodies for medical research, people from both facets who were sick because of the Incapacitation and had nothing to lose, that sorta thing. It was also around that time the first cases of retrograde started to emerge, and they realised it was because Lethe’s departure from our world also affected the quality of the River, which meant the waters weren’t interacting with the mutation viruses the way they used to. The effectiveness of the mutation virus hinges on the waters, in other words.”

“And the government wanted to cover it up, so they made people believe it was a myth that others spread to ostracise Colony members, and turned the public on the people who were actually suffering,” said Nino, wonder in his voice. “That’s a new level of odious.”

“Yeah,” Ohno nodded, “and the government decided that since they were already running tests on humans, they should also run tests on the retrograde sufferers as well, to find out more about the now-volatile relationship of the waters and the mutation viruses.”

“What has this got to do with the vaccine?” asked Sho.

“Retrograde was evidence that the mutation virus was unstable. What if more Colony members got it? What if the virus one day became capable of infecting humans? Because it was unrealistic to think of humans ever existing in greater numbers than the Colony, the government wanted to make sure they got human immortality perfected. They set out to make a vaccine that could also withstand _all_ the viruses that Colony members carry. And because to make a vaccine, you actually have to infect a host with a virus…” Ohno trailed off, letting the others fill in the blanks.

“A human was successfully infected with a mutation virus,” said Sho in disbelief. “How?”

“Yeah, I thought you guys are immune to our bites,” said Nino frowning.

“We are. We’re resistant to the virus when it’s transmitted via bite. Not otherwise, though.”

“I don’t get it,” Nino immediately said, though Sho was starting to figure it out.

“It’s to do with the purity of our blood, doesn’t it?” asked Jun, and Sho knew he’d gotten it too.

“Yes,” Ohno agreed, “if you wish to use the medical term for it.” He turned to Nino. “When a Colony member bites a Third Realm human, the Colony member’s saliva reacts with certain substances—we’ve been calling them ‘impurities’ for a long time, but I think we need a better name—in the Third Realmer’s blood. It’s got to do with how Colony members were Third Realm humans before they turned. There’s a bond there, in the blood, like magnets. It helps the virus penetrate the immune system of the Third Realm human. DTP humans don’t have these properties to their blood, so when we get bitten, our firewall stays up. That’s the biggest difference between us and Third Realmers, otherwise we’re physiologically very similar.”

“So you’re saying the government isolated the mutation viruses, refrained from applying Colony spit to them, and put it directly into a human’s blood stream.”

“No, that would’ve taken too long. It was put right into their brains.”

They all exchanged horrified looks.

“Remember, the subject was only infected when the Ministry thought it was possible to reverse the effect of the virus with the vaccine. After the subject was turned back into a human, however, some major differences from his original physiology were observed.” Ohno sighed, massaging the back of his neck. “When a person becomes a revenant, vampire or werewolf, they undergo a biological overhaul. With the introduction of the vaccine, they are again altered. This puts a toll on their immune system. Pollutes it, if I may use the word that was commonly thrown about during the Incapacitation.”

“So… The subject died?”

“Eventually. We basically caused humans, who’d been produced via modern reproductive methods, to degenerate the way they did during the Incapacitation, right there in the lab. Just to test how much they’d been altered, we had Colony members bite them, and the transitions were successful. We gave them another dose of the vaccine, and while they lost the mutation virus, they never got back their original blood quality. All of them died eventually.” Ohno paused. “They got the gift of life-expectancy, I guess. Granted, they were selected from the ‘tired of being immortal’ group. Over a hundred years old, all of them.”

Jun was looking at Ohno strangely. “Ohno-sensei—‘we’?”

Ohno held Jun’s gaze for a long moment, and the mood in the room shifted.

It made sense, though. Ohno couldn’t have known about all this if he hadn’t been there. More importantly, with the tone of disdain he’d been employing throughout his recount, it didn’t seem that Ohno had been rushing to volunteer with the initiative.

“Sorry if that was out of line,” said Jun slowly.

“No, I get why you asked.” Ohno gave another sigh. “Do you know how old I was when I wrote ‘Undead Haematology for the Young Physician’?” Ohno was looking at Sho, and Sho shook his head.

“I was seven,” Ohno continued, giving them a humourless smile. “Fucking _seven years old_. Seven-year-olds should be learning gymnastics or going on field trips with their class.”

“How do you write a book on haematology at seven years old?” asked Jun, aghast.

“Um, seeing how you guys are trained to be doctors since you’re _ten_ and this guy’s a genius,” Nino pointed to Ohno, “I don’t see why you’re so surprised. In the Third Realm ten-year-olds are running around butt-naked chasing rabbits. That’s not even a metaphor.”

“Yes, but _still_.” Sho leant forward, meeting Ohno’s eyes. “Just so you know, I loved that book as a child.”

“It was written by one, so. I couldn’t have been much older than you when it got published.” Ohno paused. “I didn’t grow up in a community. I knew what they were, but I wasn’t allowed to go near one. I wasn’t allowed outside, period. All they let me do was learn and practice medicine. Over the thirty-odd years they kept me, the only contact I had with the outside world was the letters my readers sent me. Even then, they would read them first, and vetted all my replies.”

Sho felt goosebumps break out on his skin. “Who’s ‘they’?”

“The government—Ministry of Health,” said Ohno. “They had a weird vision: they wanted to engineer an army of physicians, one that would utterly defeat their fear of disease.”

“It isn’t _that_ weird,” Nino pointed out. “It’s the only things humans here are afraid of. You guys can’t even eat from the same plate. When will you finally realise death isn’t such a scary thing?”

“We’re also quite terrified of a Colony uprising,” said Sho, “but yeah, mainly that.”

“I was the government’s prototype,” Ohno went on. “It took a whole lot of sperms and eggs. They threw away the ones that didn’t make the cut. So many fertilised eggs went to waste to create me, and they still have the cheek to complain about human underpopulation.”

“How are you not on their side, though?” asked Nino, voicing the question Sho knew was on their minds, the entire reason why Jun probed in the first place. “They raised you. Didn’t it occur to them to brainwash you?”

“I think,” Ohno mused, “when you create a very intelligent human, you also create a human who questions everything. It was inevitable that I arrived at certain conclusions, formed my own beliefs.” Ohno managed to smile. “One day, when I was on the verge of breaking, they told me to write another book. I’d always hated writing, so when I was tasked to write ‘Necrology and Psychology’ I decided to talk less about medicine and instead defend the right of the undead to refrain from suppressing negative emotions because of their more obvious non-human appearance, and suddenly I had a following.”

“You’d written good books, but that was your first great book,” said Sho solemnly. “It really united the fandom.”

Ohno laughed. “Writing about issues pertaining to medicine turned out to be my secret gateway to the outside world. It was about medicine, yes, but it was also about me. I wrote about what I believed about people, about life. To the government, I was writing good propaganda, something that people would gobble up because it promoted harmonious relations with the Colony, and they liked that because it gave them more to hide behind. They glorified my identity and branded me as some kind of mysterious medical superstar, and boasted that the public could be at ease since a person like that was working for them. It lent them a lot of credit.”

“But your books weren’t propaganda,” said Sho, remembering Ohno’s writing. “It was what you personally believed in.”

“It was. They kept me grounded. I finally knew what I believed in. And through the letters I learnt that others did too. I wasn’t alone. That was a great feeling.”

“How did you get out of the Ministry, though?” asked Jun. “You tried to run away from us when you thought we were from the Ministry, so you obviously didn’t part on good terms.”

“Well, yeah. I had enough of helping them fuck people up. Everything they did in those labs would’ve been illegal anywhere else. All that experimentation, the amount of drugs those people took… I couldn’t stand being their puppet anymore.”

“But they wanted you to continue?” asked Jun.

“They wanted me to help fix it. They wanted me to think of a way to undo the part of the vaccine that changes the Colony into humans, while still keeping the function that made humans invincible.”

“Can you actually do that?” asked Nino.

“No,” said Ohno flatly. “They were asking for the impossible.”

“So you just… ran away from home?”

Ohno gave a short, mirthless laugh. “I guess you can call it that. They were very good at getting into my head, harping on things like loyalty to the system, threatening to tell the public all the bad things I did—like how I’d cut up people without their explicit consent—but once I realised I could do the same to them, I left. I didn’t take anything from them. I gave them my life’s work and the promise that I’d only tell on them if they did the same to me. I’ve been trying to convince myself that’s why they didn’t come after me, but it’s hard to believe they never will, when you know who they really are.”

“I bet you’re so valuable to them that they can’t just arrest you and freeze you.”

“No,” Ohno agreed, “chances are they want to win me back.”

“What if they _do_ come after you?” asked Sho.

“Well, you guys saw my boat. And my emergency bag.”

“Yeah, and looked how that worked out.” Nino snorted.

There was silence in the room. They all understood: if they’d been able to find Ohno, the government, with their infinite resources, could show up on his doorstep any day. It was only a matter of time. Ohno wasn’t really safe anywhere.

Ohno cleared his throat before getting to his feet, announcing that he was going to make some tea.

“I guess now the question is: how do we get our hands on the vaccine?” Sho folded his arms and frowned. “It’s still with the Ministry, isn’t it, Sensei?”

“I guess,” said Ohno from the kitchen.

“You _guess_?” asked Jun.

“There were talks of destroying it,” replied Ohno.

“You’re kidding,” said Nino, face ashen. “After raising our hopes for the past hour, you give us this shitty piece of news?”

“I get why they would want to, though,” said Sho. “To create an ironclad, infallible human physiology, they’ve looked at the population as a whole organism to access a network of interrelated pathogens. It removed the need to test each pathogen separately when they were creating the vaccine. Yet, in the process, they unlocked the secret to trans-species metamorphosis, which they never intended to do. That’s why they’re considering that possibility.”

“I have no idea what he just said,” said Nino, looking at Jun.

“Basically, the vaccine holds the possibility for Colony members to change into humans and humans to change into Third Realm humans, and thus, into Colony species. The government recognises that something like that could cause mutiny if it fell into certain hands,” said Jun.

“Ah. You’re talking about those who want the Colony to have equal standing as the humans, Colony members who don’t want to hunt, everyone who doesn’t believe humans are gods, all the heretics who think Third Realm human lives matter,” said Nino, counting off his fingers. “Basically people like me, yeah.” Nino looked at Jun, beaming. “And you too, J!”

“So what do we do now?” asked Sho. “We still have a dying guy on our hands.”

“Maybe we should break into the lab,” said Jun slowly. Sho and Nino snapped their heads towards him; they hadn’t expected Jun to come up with that.

Ohno popped back into sight, leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen entrance. “You know that’s super illegal.”

“Well, I killed a vampire to save my friend,” said Nino. “That’s how I’m in this mess in the first place.”

“A couple of years ago I helped a patient kill herself,” said Jun, ignoring the raised eyebrows coming his way. “And Ohno-sensei, you yourself are some sort of fugitive.”

“Fair enough.” Ohno looked at Sho, expectation in his gaze.

“…I’ve boarded a train all the way to Issun-boushi with a ticket I found on the floor,” said Sho, trying to sound confident.

There were some derisive giggles, but Sho was unfazed. “We should do it,” he said, feeling optimistic.

Ohno sighed. “Actually, not to ruin the party, but I know a safer way. I could get someone to get it for us.”

Sho stared. “I thought the Ministry is untrustworthy.”

“The Ministry _is_ full of rotten people, but not all of them are beasts. Especially those who worked with me. I just don’t know how they’d feel when I contact them after a year of radio silence just to ask if they could steal the vaccine for me.”

“But they’ll do it?” asked Jun.

Ohno nodded. “There are people I can trust in there.”

“Don’t you think it’s kind of sad,” Nino spoke up after a beat of silence, “that you humans all grow up as orphans?”

Sho drew a blank. Ohno, too, was looking at Nino bewilderedly.

“What’s ‘orphans’?” asked Jun.

Nino blinked. “Okay, another word you don’t have. It means someone with no parents.”

Sho couldn’t help but give Jun a sidelong glance. Jun had gone very still, fixing his eyes on Nino.

“Actually,” Jun licked his lips, “I knew my parents. I grew up in a family.”

Ohno made a funny noise with his nose as he drew back in surprise, while Nino stared back at Jun. He then twisted himself in his bed to face Jun, and found the gumption to ask:

“Where are they now?”

“Frozen,” said Jun dryly, his candidness more comforting to Sho than it was worrying. At least Jun had faced up to the truth and dealt with it. It was a very Jun thing to do.

“This…” said Ohno hesitantly, “is a lot to take in for one night.”

“We don’t even know each other that well.” Jun gave a weak laugh. “Sorry if I made it awkward.”

“We’re just a bunch of messed up people, confessing things to each other,” said Nino, grinning.

“Group therapy,” commented Sho. “I think I like it.”

Everyone laughed just as the kettle atop the stove whistled, putting a stopper in their conversation, and Ohno left the doorjamb to make the tea, leaving the other three with their thoughts on the revelations.

“Hey, Ohno-sensei. How do they know who has retrograde?” asked Nino suddenly.

“You mean how do we identify sufferers?”

“More like I want to know: how did the government know who to catch and experiment on?”

“Hang on.” Ohno came back with the kettle and two mugs, both with teabags in them. “I only have two mugs,” he confessed. “We’ve got to take turns. Unless you guys want to do something naughty like share, and risk the spread of germs.”

“Normally the host would give up his mugs to his guests, no?” asked Jun.

Ohno blinked. “You guys are hardly guests. You stalked me and demanded my help, and then a member of your party collapsed in my house and dented my stock of medicines, and he’s now in my bed wearing my clothes. Me giving you tea is _charity_ , Matsumoto-sensei.”

“Fair enough,” Jun conceded, taking a mug so Ohno could pour the hot water into it. “Nino should get this, after all he’s been through tonight.”

Nino grinned at Jun before focusing on Ohno once more. “Sensei, about my question?”

“Ah.” Ohno took a sip of his tea, then winced because it was too hot. “They plant spies among the Colony.”

“Spies?” Nino’s jaw dropped. “Like, people who feed information to an enemy clan so they can attack and plunder territories?” 

“It’s not that dramatic in the DTP,” said Ohno knowingly. “It’s more like, regular people who have a direct line to the government installed in their homes, helping to spot who’s a little off that week. The symptoms for retrograde are pretty obvious, as you already know. A simple hug would reveal an abnormal body temperature. They’d call up the government and give them names.”

Sho could feel Jun stiffen beside him. “Is there any chance that they conduct such espionage for purposes other than notifying the government about retrograde sufferers?”

“Sure.” Ohno nodded. “They’re always innocently snooping around for illegals: activists, hunt evaders, families… There’s a whole list of people these spies help to look out for.”

“So my parents could have been outed by these people.”

Ohno froze. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be the bearer of bad news.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jun sighed. “Everyone close to us was arrested, so I’ve always wondered who it could’ve been, since it wasn’t our friends.”

“This world is so fucked up,” groaned Nino, hanging his head over the mug he was cradling.

“You should take a break from thinking about it,” advised Ohno, getting to his feet. He then turned to look at Sho and gestured to a door that was behind the bed.

“Sakurai-sensei, may I speak with you outside?”

***

It wasn’t the meeting Sho had dreamt of, but at least they were on a deck.

“So is Sammy your nickname?” Curiosity had been eating at Sho for the better part of the evening, and he was glad he finally was getting the chance to ask.

“More like an alias, to erase my tracks,” said Ohno as he gestured for Sho to edge closer to the water, presumably wanting to put some distance between them and the thin walls of the house. Sho wondered what it was that Jun and Nino weren’t supposed to hear.

“I still can’t believe _you’re_ Ohno-sensei.” Sho gave a nervous laugh, following Ohno. “It’s like meeting my idol. I mean, not ‘like’, given that you _are_ my idol. I wrote you so many letters!”

Ohno touched Sho’s arm to stop him. “Thank you for that, but this isn’t why we’re out here. I need to ask—how old are you?”

Sho blinked at the abruptness of it all. “I’m thirty-four.”

A crease appeared in Ohno’s brow. “I was the prototype of an extensive experiment to genetically manipulate human cells so they could create a highly intelligent human being, born for the specific purpose of pursuing, refining and revolutionising medicine.”

“Yes, I believe you mentioned that.”

“I was the _prototype_ ,” Ohno stressed. “This means there were others.”

It struck Sho like an anvil to his head. “Are you talking about me?” Sho took a moment to breathe. “But I was raised in a community!” 

“The ones after me weren’t institutionalised like I’d been. There was no need. Now they knew how to manipulate the genes, all they had to do was plant them in the system and create a ‘medical track’ to stream kids into.”

“Are you saying that all the doctors younger than you in Yamato are part of that - that doctor army?”

“Not _all_ … Matsumoto-sensei, obviously, isn’t a part of that manufacturing, and it’s not guaranteed that there are enough suitable sperm and eggs every year. But the government implemented the programme in National Fertility Clinics when I was two years old, after I showed enough aptitude. This means all the children in the medical track in your year.”

Sho felt his blood chilling. “Like my entire dorm.”

“You’re all very good at what you do, aren’t you?”

“We’re successful, I guess.”

“Some of you work for the government?”

“One’s with a National Fertility Clinic, another’s with the Gene Research Foundation. Yamato General is semi-autonomous, so I don’t know if we count.” Sho paused. “Yamato Medical Centre is government-operated, though. My other roommates all work there.”

“So you all have ties to the government.” Ohno shook his head. “They’re grooming you. And someday you might get a really attractive offer from the Ministry, once they deem you elite enough.” 

“So we’re just _pawns_?” asked Sho, his voice dropping to a stricken whisper.

“You can choose not to be.” Ohno looked Sho straight in the eye. “I’m not asking you to give up medicine, of course. I just wanted to warn you: if you ever get approached by the government…”

“Yeah,” said Sho shakily. “I’ll reject the hell out of their offer.”

“If they don’t nationalise all hospitals first.”

Sho pitted his face into his palm. He felt Ohno pat his arm, and looked up.

“Just so you know, we don’t have to be in a hospital to be doctors,” said Ohno.

“Is that why there’s a pharmacy in your house?”

Ohno chuckled. “It started with a fisherman that knocked on my door one night asking if I had old towels he could use. He’d just come back from the Third Realm and his leg was sliced open. I fixed him up with some stuff I had, and the next day five people showed up at my door, injured in various places. Word soon travelled, but I did make all of them swear not to tell any human I was a doctor. Didn’t want the government to find out where I’m hiding.”

“How do you get your drugs?”

“Mostly from the drivers that transport them, sometimes from workers who pack them.”

“You _steal_ them?”

“ _You_ ride trains with other people’s tickets.”

“It was just the once!”

They burst out laughing, and stopped only when they heard a knock on the door.

“We have a life to save, people,” came Nino’s voice from a few feet away, “time to plan for what’s ahead.”

Sho looked at Ohno, setting his jaw. “Please take care of us, Ohno-sensei.” Sho bowed.

“Likewise,” said Ohno, returning the gesture.


	5. Help

“Sakurai-sensei,” greeted Kitagawa as she came up beside him at the nurses station. “I heard you were on vacation, but you’re back so soon!”

“Yeah, I went to see an old friend.” Sho smiled at the nurse, consoling himself that it wasn’t a lie; he had indeed met Murao in Bunbuku-chagama.

“We were pretty under-staffed, with both you and Matsumoto-sensei gone. A couple of emergency surgeries had to be performed. Revenant got his arm sawed off at work, some other grisly stuff. Just another day, right?”

Sho tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his file. “Matsumoto-sensei was on vacation too, huh?”

“Yes.” Kitagawa suddenly looked apologetic. “Matsumoto-sensei works really hard too, actually.”

Sho snorted. “I bet.”

“You know what? Forget I said anything,” said Kitagawa, distressed. Sho felt sorry for making her think she’d painted Jun in a bad light, but he had to keep their charade going, especially today.

“Excuse me,” came Jun’s voice from behind as he cut in between Kitagawa and Sho, reaching for a file on a mini cabinet they were standing in front of. “Just need to get this.”

Kitagawa had on a smile that looked more like a wince, sympathy flitting across her features as she looked at Sho from behind Jun. “I gotta go. See you later, Sakurai-sensei; Matsumoto-sensei.” 

“Bye,” said Sho, as Jun retrieved the file and whispered:

“It’s done.”

Jun brushed past Sho and left.

Sho continued his business at the nurses station, confirming his schedule for the afternoon. He still had a bit of time, so he took out a patient record and filled in some instructions for post-op wound care. When he felt that it’d been long enough, he closed the file, said bye to the nurses at the station, and headed for the library.

***

Unlike the last visit, when he’d been in the library after hours (except ‘visit’ wasn’t the best word; it’d been a tryst through and through), the library was currently open and available to anyone who wished to use it. There were a couple of other doctors in the stacks, looking for books, and some at the tables, poring through old cases while taking notes.

Sho took his time, scanning the shelf that held books on pre-Incapacitation medicine, pulling some out and frowning at them so it appeared he was looking for a particular book. He then entered the aisle— _their_ aisle, Sho thought—with the camera dead spot. Relieved to find nobody there, he continued his search for that elusive, imaginary book before stepping past the shelves that marked the edge of the camera’s line of sight.

Sho went up to the bookcase that was set against the wall ( _their_ bookcase) and began locating the book that didn’t belong. It didn’t take him long; he knew very well how the spine of _Necrology and Psychology_ looked like. He got it off the shelf and turned to page 10.

Nestled in a hollow in the middle of the book was a vial. Sho snapped the book shut, his heart pounding because (a) their plan was officially in motion, and (b) it enraged him that there was a hole in the very book that united his fandom, the author’s explicit permission to do so notwithstanding. 

Sho hid the book under his coat and strode out of the library. It was all up to him now.

***

The plan was, actually, quite simple.

Nino was to be Ohno’s messenger, since he was the one with most mobility. (Nino worked for a _benriya_ firm, one of those places that had the Colony members do all sorts of odd jobs for people, from unclogging toilets to queueing in someone’s stead at an idol concert venue for limited edition lanyards.)

Ohno had Nino make contact with his friend in the Ministry, a young doctor who went by the name of Haru, a resident of Izanami. She visited Bunbuku-chagama that very day to clarify things with Ohno. She agreed to help Ohno obtain the vaccine, which Nino picked up the next evening. Jun and Nino then met at a cafe in their community, where the vaccine, masquerading as a present, was handed to Jun, and because they didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to themselves Sho and Jun decided that the best way to get the vial into Sho’s hands was to have Jun leave it somewhere for him to pick up, hence the vial-in-a-book-in-the-library method.

Sho’s task was more technical. He had to administer the vaccine to Aiba, wait 30 minutes, then inject another drug into Aiba on the pretence of saving him but actually bringing up his temperature. It wasn’t the same as Jun’s original idea: stopping Aiba’s heart was way more risky, and didn’t take into account Aiba’s biology as a Third Realm human. When they’d discussed the plan, Ohno had said that Third Realm humans could fool their DTP machines a lot easier than Colony species could; a simple spike in temperature could reflect as death on the monitors.

After Aiba’s death was faked, Sho would wheel him, on a gurney, to the crematorium. The crematorium was under the hospital and had a door that opened out to the Colony facet. Nino would be waiting outside this door with something to transport Aiba in. Sho would hand Aiba over to Nino, and his job would be done. Nino would then take Aiba to one of the portals in the Colony facet, via which he’d be returned to the Third Realm.

Quite simple.

***

The first injection was complete. Now, all Sho had to do was wait for the vaccine to take effect.

It wasn’t weird for Sho to be alone with Aiba in his room, since Aiba was in a critical care unit and needed constant monitoring. Sho had made up a story about feeling bad for going on vacation while having such a demanding patient and had asked to be in-charge of Aiba for the day, since he had no surgeries that afternoon. It was interns’ work, the nurses had said, but the way they said it showed they liked him more for it.

Sho checked Aiba’s vitals. It was Aiba’s fifth day in Yamato General, and he’d been putting up a good fight.

“Hey, Aiba-san,” said Sho softly, drawing up a chair. “You don’t know me, but I know a little bit about you.”

Aiba, obviously, didn’t stir, but Sho took the opportunity to study his features, and noticed, for the first time, that Aiba was someone he’d consider handsome. It wasn’t as obvious as it’d been with Jun, or even Nino for that matter—Jun was pretty, Nino was cute, water was wet—but Aiba had the kind of face that took a bit of admiring for the onlooker to realise he was, in fact, very good-looking. There was something genial, almost innocent, about his appearance: his lips were full, but not plump; his eyes were fringed with thick lashes, though understated in length; and his jaw, rather than by his natural bone structure, was defined by the flattery of light and shadow. It was as if he was a delicious secret waiting to be discovered.

“Whoa,” Sho said out loud, shaking his head. This was the second time in a week that he’d been attracted to a man who wasn’t Jun. With Aiba being a comatose patient and a Third Realm human, it was weird on many levels.

“Improper thoughts aside,” Sho cleared his throat, “I’d actually like to thank you.” Sho perched awkwardly on his seat, knowing Aiba couldn’t hear him, but also comforted that he couldn’t. “This whole business of saving you has led to a lot of things. It’s made me realise what I can do. How I can play my part. I finally see that even someone like me, so small and insignificant, can do something for others.” Sho smiled. “I initially wanted to help you only because Jun wanted to, but now I see why he wanted to. You know what I mean? Loving a person is a powerful feeling. Loving what he loves, as you love him, is even more so. He loves what is good, and what is right. To love those things you have to _know_ those things, and Jun has taught me those things. Through helping you.” Sho patted Aiba’s hand gently. “Thank you.”

Sho looked at the clock. They still had another 20 minutes to wait. Or to talk.

“Playing witness to Jun’s courage and principles in action through all this has been rewarding, but there’s also something else: I’ve finally met the person I’ve looked up to my whole life. He’s my _absolute_ idol.” Sho paused to rein himself in; talking about Ohno often gave rise to excitement, which mean his voice tended to pitch high. “Ohno-sensei’s the one who’s responsible for the thing that saved you. He’s a real paradox. You look at him, you wouldn’t know he’s a survivor. You talk to him, you wouldn’t know he’s deep. But he’s all of that. He’s a thinker and a doer, and a freaking genius.

“Oh, and I’ve even made a new friend. Your friend.” Sho paused. “At least, I think we’re friends now. Nino can be catty and headstrong, but maybe that’s his retrograde messing with him. I don’t know. I think I like him in spite of all that. Today, hopefully, you and Nino are going to go home. I hope you have it in your power to make sure your people don't misunderstand who he is. Who he really is.”

It was time to check Aiba’s vitals. Sho got up, grabbed the clipboard on the table, and looked at Aiba’s respiration rate. “You know, before all this happened, I was on the fence about many things. I wanted to believe in the system, to believe that the government knew what they were doing. They might have hurt people, but there had to be someone in there wanting to do some good.” Sho swallowed, trying to tame his tears. “I now realise that while there are people like that, there simply aren’t enough. It’s up to the _citizens_ to make this place good, because now, after finding out how the government has worked to destroy lives, I only see that it’s rotten at its core.”

Sho finished his routine check and sat down beside Aiba once more. “I don’t know how many societies, or realms, or galaxies are out there. But if we call your world the Third Realm, there has to be more. And it’s made me wonder—how many of those worlds are perfect? Is there even such a thing? How do we know what’s perfect?” Sho gave a laugh. “Sorry, this just turned into a rant. It’s just… All this has made me realise—we only know something is imperfect when we start to wish for something better. That sort of dissatisfaction is fathomable. This means there can only be progress if we keep on trying for better, so perhaps it’s best that we may never know perfec— _aaahhh_!”

Sho fell out of his chair as Aiba awoke with a loud gasp, his eyes wide open, chest heaving.

“Aiba-san!” Sho spluttered. “Ohno-sensei didn’t say you’d wake up!”

“Where am I?” Aiba rasped.

“You’re in a hospital. In Diktyopoeia.”

“Disco-what?”

“The DTP?”

Aiba looked at Sho blankly, prompting Sho to try again. “The, uh, the Crystal Planet?”

Aiba blanched. “ _What?_ ”

“You have to keep quiet,” begged Sho, casting a frantic glance at the the door, “you’re supposed to be dead in,” Sho checked the clock, “thirteen minutes.”

“I’m not going to just sit here and let you kill me—” Aiba started scrabbling at the tubes attached to his arm, but Sho stopped him.

“That came out wrong, sorry. I’m not going to kill you. I’m a doctor. Your doctor. Human.” Sho gripped Aiba’s forearms. “Do you remember your friend, Nino?”

Aiba went very still. “Nino went missing years ago.”

Sho shook his head vehemently. “He’s here. He came here. He became a werewolf.”

“He became one of them?” The shock and hurt on Aiba’s face was jarring.

“He did. But he’s turning back into one of you.”

Aiba clutched his head. “This is a dream, isn’t it?” He looked up at Sho, eyes wild. “Tell me it’s a dream.”

“It’s a dream?” Sho tried.

Aiba let out a cry of anguish and fell back on the bed, which Sho managed to smother by cupping his hand over Aiba’s mouth.

“Look. You must know that the creatures that appear in your world look like people you’ve known before. Even if you didn’t cross paths with Nino, you must’ve spotted someone you recognised, who’d gone…”

“Bad,” supplied Aiba, giving a small nod.

“But it’s not them. It’s not their fault. They’re given the River’s - wait, that won’t make sense to you... They’re given a potion, a potion that removes their memories. But there’s a rare instance when the potion’s effects wear down and they start to remember everything.”

“Nino remembers?”

“He does. He saved you. He saw you being bitten by a vampire, and he - he took care of it.”

“Oh God. Yes.” Aiba touched a hand to his neck, where his puncture holes were covered by a large piece of gauze. “The vampire. I thought my blood was on fire.” 

“We managed to reverse the effects of the virus. And now we need to get you back to the Third Realm.”

“Wait,” Aiba’s gaze was now wary, “if Nino forgot who he was, how did he remember his name?”

“There is a branch of the government,” Sho watched the clock—Nino had requested a strict adherence to schedule, “called the High Priests. They’re in charge of the things that science can’t explain. They have a - a magic basin filled with the waters from the River—the potion—and each, uh, _creature_ … gets a finger pricked over the basin. The blood that falls into it tells the High Priests their names, the kind of work they did in your world, their personalities… And then they drink that, the potion now mixed with their blood, and officially enter this world with that identity.”

“Without their memories?”

“Yes.”

“Oh God.”

“Listen. There’s no time. Nino’s worked really hard to get you human again, and you’re very close to going home. Right now I have to make it look like you’ve died. In eight minutes I’m going to give you a drug intravenously. It will raise your body temperature beyond the acceptable level for a person infected with a vampiric virus. This machine here will think you’re dead. I just need you to lay very still and play dead. I’ll then bring you to the crematorium, but really Nino will be outside, and I’m going to hand you over to him. He’ll put you in a crate or something, I don’t know, he’s very resourceful that way, I’m sure you know that but okay, enough, I’m babbling. Just trust me, okay?”

Aiba looked at Sho for several long seconds. “What’s your name?”

“Sakurai Sho.”

“Sakurai Sho,” repeated Aiba. “May I have some water, Sakurai-sensei?”

“Okay,” Sho put a hand on Aiba’s arm and squeezed it, “okay.”

Aiba lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. “I’m being dead,” he said, trying not to move his lips.

“Thank you.” Sho breathed a sigh of relief. He walked over to the corner of the room where a pitcher of water and some glasses were. He had started cursing himself inside his head for not thinking to confirm with Ohno whether the patient would come out of the coma (what if Aiba was _ticklish_?!) when there came a series of knocks on the door, a deliberate rhythm that he’d agreed on with Jun for emergencies.

Sho quickly walked over to the foot of Aiba’s bed so he could block Aiba from view of the door and beyond. “Come in,” called Sho, placing the glass of water on the table by the bed.

Jun wasn’t looking very calm. Sho felt his heart plunge south.

“Nino’s been arrested,” Jun blurted once the door was shut and he’d gotten close enough to Sho.

“What?” exclaimed Sho and Aiba together, making Jun fall back in surprise, not unlike how Sho had.

“The fuck!” Jun gaped at Aiba. “You’re awake!”

“Could we _not_ go through this again?!” snapped Sho, waving his arms. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand! Aiba-san, play dead!” Sho turned back to Jun. “Did Nino go into full retrograde and show up on the population registry?”

“No, actually. I found out because he’s in my community and everyone was talking about it. Apparently the authorities heard about the stunt he pulled: bringing in a partial drainage victim, bursting into a resuscitation room. Didn’t need spies for them to figure it was retrograde, what with the cameras everywhere and big-mouthed patients who’d also been there that day. He was arrested for disruption, though. They would never admit retrograde’s a thing, but who knows what they’ll do to him if they suspect it.”

Sho groaned. “What are we going to do if Nino’s not here? I don’t know the way to a Third Realm portal! The Colony facet’s a fucking labyrinth!”

“That’s why I’ve come to talk to you. I’m going after Nino. They’ve taken him to the Anti-crime Bureau. I can bail him out, submit an official statement about how it was just a severe form of apotropaic disease. That’s what they’d have wanted me to diagnose, anyway. He could get released in an hour, tops.”

“No,” said Sho immediately, “you’ll get arrested too, if they examine him and realise you’re covering for him.”

“It’s our best shot. They don’t know I believe retrograde exists. Listen, if I can get Nino back, he can take Aiba-san across the border. Nino says this guy’s too weak to travel on his own,” Jun gestured to Aiba, “so he has to go with him.”

“Okay,” Sho steadied his breathing, willing himself to think, “we’ll meet somewhere else. The crematorium door leads outside. Outside leads to the Colony facet. All the portals are in there. The hospital records has Nino’s home address. I can meet you guys there, because if they got him once already today, they wouldn’t be at his house.”

“Got it.” Jun made a move to go, but Sho clasped his wrist, pulled him close, and kissed him. Jun didn’t even hesitate. He kissed back.

“Be safe,” pleaded Sho, as they broke apart.

“See you at Nino’s,” said Jun, giving a curt nod in Aiba’s direction before swiftly exiting the room.

Sho turned back to Aiba, who had already fallen back on his pillows, though the slight frown on his face told Sho he was looking at the room through slit eyes.

“You can’t peek,” scolded Sho. “Dead people don’t peek.”

Aiba relaxed his face and nodded.

“I’m going to give you the drug in about a minute,” said Sho. “The machine will beep and people are going to enter the room. I will ask them not to touch you unnecessarily because you’re from a different world, you’ve had an unpredicted, unnatural death and we don’t know what diseases you carry. This way, at least you get to keep the clothes you’re wearing. I will declare your time of death, and we’ll put you into a bag for corpses. You must try to breathe as shallowly as you can and make absolutely no noise. I will then take you myself to the crematorium, and we’ll leave by a backdoor. I honestly don’t think you can run, not in your state, but this is a hospital—there has to be a spare wheelchair somewhere.” Sho fished out another vial and a clean syringe from the inside of his coat. “You ready?”

“Could I have some water first?”

Sho quickly handed Aiba the glass of water, which he drained. “You ready?” asked Sho once more.

“I’m—” Aiba halted mid-sentence, and gave Sho a look of alarm. “I really need to pee.”

Sho wanted to cry. Saving Aiba was turning out a lot harder than they thought, and Aiba wasn’t making it any easier.

***

With as much drama as warning a bunch of medical practitioners about a disease-ridden Third Realm human entailed, Aiba was successfully bagged in a Cadaver Carry™ and put onto a gurney. Together with a nurse, Sho wheeled the gurney out of the intensive care ward and down the hall towards the nearest lift. He couldn’t talk to Aiba with the nurse around and several other colleagues walking about, but he kept his thumb discreetly pressed against the underside of Aiba’s shoulder to assure him that everything was going okay.

As they rounded the hallway, the lift came into sight; the doors opened with a ding, and Sho’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the man inside: he was a rigid picture of thunderstorm-grey, dusty silver hues of fabric billowing about him as he strode out of the lift. Sho always thought High Priest robes were some of the most dramatic apparel he’d ever seen, and he’d wondered how the priests never tripped over their floor-sweeping hems. Perhaps physics was kinder to the ordained.

Sho guided the gurney towards the lift, trying to rein in his wildly racing pulse. The priest was here for Aiba. He had to be. According to Oguri the High Priests’ office had called the very night Aiba had been warded; it’d been days since, and they were due for a visit.

The priest had stopped by the nurses station to make an enquiry, and as the gurney approached, Sho saw the nurses gesture towards them. His heart sank. They were going to be stopped.

“Is this the Third Realm human?” intoned the priest, stepping right in Sho’s way.

“Yes, but I’m afraid he’s dead.” Sho made sure to sound tremendously regretful.

The priest narrowed his eyes. “You were harbouring him.”

“We didn’t harbour him, we were _treating_ him. Hoping to save him so he can become a useful member of society,” said Sho, keeping his voice even.

“You should’ve let him drink the waters first. That’s protocol. Everyone who passes through the returning portals must drink the waters, even in the case of an incomplete transition.”

“He wasn’t strong enough to take them,” argued Sho. “There are provisions for that.”

This silenced the priest. Sho knew what was his preferred retort: the priest didn’t care that Aiba could’ve died from drinking the waters, because all they had to do was to send someone out on a hunt and bring back someone else. But the priest couldn’t say that, because he, like all the decision-makers of their world, lived behind the cover of universal love and didn’t want to admit he thought the Colony was replaceable.

From the depths of his robes, the priest produced a slim decanter holding what was definitely the River’s waters. “As a precautionary measure, we have to pour the water into his orifices.” The priest pulled the stopper from the decanter and looked to Sho. “Unzip this carrier.”

“No,” said Sho, getting in front of the gurney to shield Aiba from the priest. His mind raced to find an excuse that would buy them time. “We don’t know what caused his death exactly. You can’t open the bag here. Besides, we’re going to cremate him.”

The priest considered this. “No. Better to be safe than sorry. Bring the body into one of these rooms. We’ll do it there.”

Sho knew if he did as he was told, everything would come to naught. Aiba would actually get his memories removed, and all of them involved—Ohno, Jun, Nino—would be frozen or exiled. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, but in the next moment there was a flurry of grey fabric and a yelp of pain and then the priest was moaning on the ground, the decanter lying in pieces beside him, its contents spilt across the linoleum.

“Shit!” Toma cursed, coming into sight from behind the portable X-ray machine that he’d crashed into the priest. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. Cumbersome, these things.” He patted the machine, before looking concerned. “Are you okay?” He peered down at the priest.

Sho could only gape at Toma in wonder.

The priest was now surrounded by nurses, and he let out a shriek when he saw the broken decanter on the ground. “How dare you waste the waters of Lethe!” he screeched at Toma, before remembering he was in a public place, and expressions of hostility could be interpreted as violation of the law.

“Well, I’m very sorry, but the River runs through Izanami, I’m sure you could get more in a snap.”

Sho could weep. Toma was making him so proud.

The priest got to his feet with the help of a nurse, wincing and sucking air through his teeth. He was putting his weight on one foot. How hard had Toma hit him?

“Sir, I think we should have someone look at you,” one of the nurses suggested to the priest.

“Yes, please,” said the priest. “Not him though,” he hastily added, pointing at Toma.

Toma gave the priest a saccharine smile as he beckoned to the nurse who’d been helping Sho push the gurney. “Kikuchi-kun, could you take this back to Radiography?” He bobbed his head towards the X-ray machine. “Thanks. Oh, and I’ll help Sakurai-sensei from here on. No worries.”

Sho watched in amazement as Toma grabbed the handles on the gurney. “Come on, Sakurai-sensei. Let’s set this baby on fire.”

***

The moment the lift doors closed Sho turned to Toma.

“Was that really an accident?” asked Sho, a part of him thinking how maybe Toma really hated High Priests.

“No,” said Toma, looking less cocksure now. “Look. I know something’s up. Matsumoto-sensei wanted me to send you this patient file, he shoved it in my hands before he flew out of the hospital. I couldn’t help but look, and I realised it’s the werewolf who brought in this dead patient of yours. The werewolf with retrograde.”

Sho took the file. Jun had wanted him to have Nino’s address. He looked up at Toma. “Does the whole hospital know he has retrograde?”

“No. Not the whole hospital. I only know because he’s from my community, remember? We’re just five minutes away, most of us working here live there, so news travels fast.”

Sho had completely forgotten that Toma was from Jun and Nino’s community.

“No one I know really believes in retrograde.” Toma was studying Sho carefully now. “People just think he went loopy from something. Tons of Third Realm stuff causes such behaviour, after all.” Toma paused. “So you believe he has retrograde?”

Sho wanted to trust Toma. He really did. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Toma said immediately. “I know retrograde when I see it.”

“…What?” Sho couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I’ve been tracking retrograde patients for a while now. Not just in Yamato. All around the DTP. It’s something I’ve been documenting since I was a kid. Call me crazy, Sakurai-sensei, but I really do think the government is screwing with people’s lives.”

Sho set his mouth in a grim line. “You and me both.”

“I knew something was up with that Ninomiya guy the day he brought _this_ guy in, and then he got discharged super fast despite the severity of his injury, _and then_ you and Matsumoto-sensei went on vacation at the same time, and when I thought about how you guys are their doctors… I don’t know what exactly is happening, but you and Matsumoto-sensei are like my idols, and I _know_ you guys. Something is definitely up. And I want to help.”

Sho couldn’t answer because the lift doors opened just then, and they had to remain silent until they reached the crematorium. It gave Sho time to think about Toma.

Toma was never one to keep his opinions to himself. He was constantly deemed loud and borderline offensive, talking about things people never liked to hear. He spoke out about the lack of quality in the government and constantly complained how unfair it was having to do so much work because there weren’t enough doctors in the hospitals. He often said they should just let Colony members be trained in medicine. There were lots of other things Toma ‘complained’ about—and people would laugh, or scold, before brushing his comments aside.

But there was truth in whatever Toma had been saying all this time. It was only regarded as offensive because the government had successfully indoctrinated everyone with their propaganda and Toma was publicly challenging the status quo. He wasn’t heard, but it wasn’t because his voice wasn’t loud enough. It was because people rejected the truth.

Toma scanned his pass to unlock the door. They pushed the gurney into the crematorium, and Sho checked that no one else was there before speaking.

“You’ve helped enough,” said Sho, removing his gloves and taking out a notebook and pen to copy Nino’s address from his patient file. “I’ll find a chance to talk to you when I get back.” Sho paused. “ _If_ I get back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Here.” Sho waved the piece of paper that bore Nino’s address. He gave the file back to Toma. “If anyone asks, say I told you I could handle it from here.”

“Are you sure…?”

“I don’t want to involve you any further.”

“I don’t—” Toma started to protest, but Sho held up a hand.

“If anything happens, at least you’ll still be around. At least we’ll have a lifeline. You understand?”

Toma swallowed, nodding. He backed towards the door. “I’ll go check on the priest. Tell him you took care of the body.” Toma balled up his hand in a fist before flicking his fingers outward. “Ka-boom.”

Sho laughed. “Thank you, Toma.”

“You’re welcome,” Toma said, and left.

The moment the door slid closed, Sho started looking for a wheelchair. It was a crematorium and there was no reason for there to be one around, but this was a _hospital_ —

“Sakurai-sensei?” came Aiba’s voice. “Are we okay?”

“We’re okay,” answered Sho. “I’m looking for a wheelchair, hang on.”

“I can try walking.”

Sho straightened. “You sure?” he asked, hurrying over to where Aiba was lying.

“Unzip to find out.”

Sho pulled down the zipper and helped Aiba sit up. He swung his legs to one side of the gurney and gingerly put his feet on the floor. “Ooh, cold.”

“You are absurd,” muttered Sho, putting a hand around Aiba’s waist and clutching Aiba’s hand in his as he tried to stand.

“Okay, let go,” Aiba said, taking a deep breath, and Sho did. Aiba took three steps and fell over. Sho lurched forward to catch him.

“I’m a bit dizzy,” Aiba confessed.

“I’m not surprised. You’re not even supposed to be out of bed.” Sho’s heart felt like lead as he realised what he had to do. “Fine. I’ll carry you. You aren’t wearing shoes anyway.” Sho slapped his hand against his forehead. “Nino was supposed to get you shoes and clothes. People will be wondering why you’re in a hospital gown, and why I’m in scrubs and a physician’s coat.”

“I’m okay going barefoot,” said Aiba helpfully. “I get what you’re saying about the clothes, though.”

“We’ll worry about the clothes later. Come on,” he lowered himself, “get on my back.”

Aiba wasn’t as heavy as Sho had thought—Aiba was a couple inches taller than him, Sho had expected to suffer a little—and they made it out of the crematorium and into a dark alleyway.

“Where are we?” whispered Aiba.

“Underground. The top level of the Colony facet.”

“What’s that?”

“The place where werewolves, vampires and revenants live.”

“Whoa!” Aiba slid down Sho’s back, almost strangling Sho in the process. “I’m out!”

“Are you crazy?” Sho sputtered, catching Aiba’s arm. “Get back here!”

“Those creatures murder people!”

“Not in this form, or this world.” Sho realised Aiba’s concerns. “When they go to your world, they aren’t really themselves. It’s like… They have a filter on, a fog in their brains that doesn’t clear up until they come back here. They’re just regular people with regular jobs. They won’t think about attacking you.”

Aiba stared at Sho, long and hard. “I’m going to trust you, Sakurai-san. If any of them pounce, however,” Aiba suddenly looked very dangerous, “your neck will be in my hands.”

Sho felt quite threatened.

“Where are we going now?” asked Aiba, as Sho lifted him once again.

Sho pointed ahead, where a towering cuboid of steel extended from the ground to the distant level above. Its bottommost part was surrounded by an enclosed booth about 10 feet high. The entrance of this booth, which they couldn’t see from their position, faced a busier alley, and they could hear faintly the chattering of the passersby. “That’s where we ride the lift to the lower levels. Nino lives on the seventeenth. Way down.”

“All right.” Aiba inhaled, his chest expanding against Sho’s back.

The booth came nearer and nearer, and Sho’s heart pounded faster and faster. Neither Aiba nor him looked like they belonged underground. They could pass off as visitors to the community, sure, but why Sho was carrying Aiba would be a mystery to anyone who paid them attention. Sho hoped with all his might that they wouldn’t have to talk to anybody. He was sure some people would recognise him, given that he made his living treating undead and worked at the hospital nearest to this community, but he consoled himself with the thought that he’d only been working in Izanami for a little over a year and hadn’t gotten too personal with many patients.

They got to the entrance of the booth, and a kind vampire held the door open for Sho so he didn’t have to put Aiba down. There were chairs in the booth, and the lift hadn’t arrived yet. Aiba was just getting excited about the chairs, saying how Sho deserved a break, when Sho realised who else was in the booth, dozing off.

“ _Sensei?_ ” cried Sho, rousing Ohno, who looked up blearily. It was then Sho realised that Ohno was sitting in a wheelchair.

He had a _wheelchair._

“Good grief, Sakurai,” grumbled Ohno, standing up to relinquish the chair to Aiba, “you took your own sweet time, huh?”

“Why are you - what are you - _I could hug you_ ,” gushed Sho to Ohno as he lowered Aiba down.

“Who’s this?” asked Aiba, looking up at Ohno, then to Sho.

“I’m Sammy,” Ohno quickly said. “Hello, and let’s talk later.”

***

They rode the lift in silence, swallowing in tandem as they tried to remove the congestion in their ears caused by the change in pressure. Sho was worried because he wasn’t sure how he was going to navigate to Nino’s address, and he was convinced Ohno wouldn’t know how, either. The man had, after all, spent most of his life in a lab. But he had to at least have a better grasp of the lay of the land than Aiba, who wasn’t even from their world.

The doors to the 17th floor opened and they quietly filed out of the booth with all the other residents of the level, Ohno helping to push Aiba out of the entrance. It was colder here, and Sho caught Aiba shivering.

“Oh,” said Ohno abruptly, beckoning to Sho to take the handles of the chair, “I almost forgot.” Ohno swung his messenger bag to the front of his body and took out two jumpers and two pairs of sweatpants with the tags still on. “I brought you guys clothes. I had no idea what size Aiba-san was, so I got the largest.”

They parked the wheelchair at the back of the lift booth so Sho and Aiba could put their clothes on, and Aiba kept laughing with every roll of his waistband. With his height he didn’t fit the jumper too poorly, but he was lean, so the pants were, in fact, dramatically loose.

Sho checked to see if there was anyone in the vicinity before he asked Ohno why he was in Izanami.

“Truthfully?” Ohno scratched his nose. “I felt really stupid sitting at home. I kept thinking about you guys and wondering if this,” he made a motion with his hand in Aiba’s direction, “was going okay. So I thought, fuck it, and came up to Izanami—only to be met with a ruckus at the station. Somebody had just been arrested. I went closer and realised it was Nino. That was when I knew things had gone wrong.”

“So you went and got us the clothes and the wheelchair?”

“Not yet. I knew only roughly what the plan was, but I didn’t know what time you guys were supposed to meet or where, so I knew I had to get to Matsumoto. I hung around the entrance of the hospital, and he came rushing out about an hour later. He said he was going to get Nino back, and when I volunteered to help, he said to get two sets of clothes and a wheelchair and wait for you at the West Level One lobby. Then he left.”

Jun. He thought of everything. Sho prayed that he was okay, before fishing Nino’s address out of his pocket. “Jun and I agreed to meet at Nino’s house. Here.” Sho showed Ohno the piece of paper. “All the times I’ve ever had to visit the Colony facet a guide came with, so I’m a bit nervous about being able to find his place.”

“There’s signage we can follow, I think?” Ohno squinted at a board not too far away. It wasn’t very well-lit underground and their human eyes were still unadjusted to the surroundings. “Come on.”

The board told them they were in Quadrant III, but Nino lived in Quadrant IV, in a place called Giants’ Dome. There was a map detailing Quadrant III, a red dot marking their current location.

“Shit,” Ohno muttered under his breath as they stared at the map, “this place is a fucking maze.”

“Here,” Aiba tapped at some words on the board. It said: _To Quadrant IV (via Central Line)_.

“Would it kill them to give us the entire map of the place?” grumbled Ohno.

“It’s probably too big, that’s why they have to do it quadrant by quadrant.” Sho knew the facet was made up of interconnected domes arranged randomly on points of a circular web, and considering how the Colony was four times larger than the human population he couldn’t even begin to fathom the sheer size of the underground. It was terrifying trying to navigate it.

They followed the signs as best as they could towards the Central Line, riding dozens of other smaller ‘lines’, which they found out was the fancy name for conveyor belts, sometimes escalators. After some lines that ended in dead ends and having to backtrack a few times, they checked the maps whenever they could, sacrificing precious minutes, but they figured it was better than losing their way.

Sho hadn’t been this deep into the Colony facet before, and one thing that really struck him was how dirty it was. Refuse was packed into the curved walls and ceilings of the domes, and there was litter everywhere: on the ground, buried into the ground, in the front gardens of people’s houses. Empty refrigerators crowded an empty lot. Rusty bicycles and dead vending machines populated another. It was sad, a far cry from the upper levels that housed the markets and hotels, a world completely different from his above.

It was daytime and most of the Colony was up in the human facet working, so there weren’t many people around. Aiba soon realised this, and Sho could tell he was less nervous now, curiously observing his environment, possibly even enjoying the journey. At one point he said he could wheel the chair by himself, but Ohno played the doctor card and said he should rest, because the journey across the border, while short, wasn’t kind. Aiba protested until Sho revealed that Ohno invented the vaccine that cured him. That shut Aiba up. 

“Oh, there it is,” Sho groaned in relief as he spotted the sign, “the Central Line!”

There were two belts that seemed to be snaking on forever in opposite directions, and the signpost above the one they had to take bore the words: _To Quadrant IV and East Shaft_. Figuring out the Central Line felt like victory, and the three of them cheered and slapped high fives when they got onto it.

Their happiness lasted until they arrived in Quadrant IV.

“Where the hell is Giants’ Dome?” Ohno moaned at the map they were looking at. They’d been expecting to see the place names labelled, but Quadrant IV was a lot less populated than Quadrant III and the map only showed their immediate vicinity. The only helpful thing was the words: _Further settlements located east._

Sho checked Nino’s address again. “Maybe we should ask someone.” 

They walked past rows of empty houses until finally finding one that had a smoking chimney. Sho lost the janken and was the one to make the enquiry, and the lady vampire who was staying home on her day off told them Giants’ Dome was very rural, that it was ‘the easternmost dome on the longest strand of the facet, around seven-point-two-three and negative-four-point-five’, and when Sho apologised for not understanding everything she’d said after ‘easternmost’, the lady very kindly stepped out of her house to show them on the map.

“That was nice of her,” Aiba remarked, as they set off for Giants’ Dome.

Sho smiled. “Told you they’re just regular people.”

“Until they turn into bloodsucking monsters who try to turn you into one of them,” said Aiba airily, tapping his temple. “Never forget.”

They were interrupted by Ohno leaping into the air and flailing his limbs, making a strangulated sound at the back of his throat. The other two stared as he hunched and continued walking, nostrils flared and jaw jutting out.

“Did you just throw a two-second tantrum?” asked Sho, deeply amused.

“I can’t believe we’re still walking,” said Ohno through gritted teeth. “Nino’s house is in the fucking back of beyond.”

Sho blinked. “That’s rich coming from someone who lives in Bunbuku-chagama.”

“Bunbuku-chagama overlooks a fucking gorgeous ocean!” Ohno snapped. “This is a city of dirt and rubbish! Only fools would compare!”

Sho was stunned into silence. Then he felt Aiba tap his hand, and tilted his head to look down at him.

“Your friend seems to be under a lot of stress,” whispered Aiba.

“I heard that,” growled Ohno.

“Maybe he’s not getting laid?”

There it was, another curious Third Realm figure of speech. “What does that mean?” asked Sho.

Aiba was surprised. “You don’t know what ‘getting laid’ means?”

Sho shook his head.

“It means to have sexual intercourse with somebody,” said Aiba.

“Ah, that’s - that’s… Anything that can result in sex with another, and of course the act itself, is illegal for humans here.” Sho blushed, remembering Aiba had been peeking when he’d kissed Jun.

“ _What?_ ” Aiba was horrified. He then reached out to touch Ohno’s arm. “My thoughts are with you, Sammy-san.”

“Oh, go get laid yourself,” Ohno replied scathingly.

Sho hung back so they could put a distance between themselves and Ohno. He was in a dangerous mood.

“See?” said Aiba, leaning back and raising his palm, gesturing towards Ohno sagely, as Ohno kicked an empty shoebox out of his way. “Stress.”

Sho looked up at the ceiling, praying that this journey would be over soon.

***

There were a dozen signs at the mouth of Giants’ Dome that said ‘Giants’ Dome’—the irony of there not being a single sign anywhere else wasn’t lost on them—and it made Aiba laugh, claiming that this was exactly the kind of bullshit Nino was fond of, no wonder he’d chosen to live in such a place.

Ohno had calmed down considerably and had taken over wheelchair duty, leaving Sho to take the lead. They hadn’t been strolling the entire journey, but they hadn’t been navigating well enough to move fast either, and according to Sho’s watch they’d spent the past three hours trying to find Nino’s house. Locating Nino’s house seemed easier than locating the dome: there weren’t many houses around, and despite the name it wasn’t a large dome.

Together they ventured further into the area, Aiba’s wheelchair bouncing over half-buried aerosol cans and crunching forgotten snack wrappers. By now Sho had had Nino’s address memorised, and he’d also figured out how to read the numbers at the end of it. The first number denoted the ward, the second number the block, and the last number was for the house. These were properly labelled, thankfully, and Sho had gleefully made the turn onto Nino’s lane when he saw the scene before him, skidded to a stop and hurriedly backtracked to warn Ohno and Aiba not to proceed.

“Get behind that,” said Sho as loud as he dared to, pointing to a small mountain of broken plumbing fixtures set in an enormous bathtub that was missing a leg. Ohno reversed Aiba’s wheelchair behind the junk and crouched, looking at Sho bewilderedly.

“His house looks like a crime scene—crawling with the authorities, and there is a _horde_ of High Priests,” reported Sho, lowering himself to face Ohno. “I have no idea what’s going on, but we can’t possibly meet them there.”

Hearing this, Ohno folded his lips inward, pinching them between his teeth.

“Couldn’t we find a place to hide, and leave a note of sorts? Not a real note,” Aiba explained, “but like something significant to point them in the right direction?”

Sho looked around. The land surrounding them was a graveyard of waste. Trying to use all that rubbish to allude to their whereabouts would riddle even themselves. It wasn’t worth the time…

There was something weird with the graveyard of waste, however. Sho could’ve sworn that the large orange bin from several metres away was suddenly looking a lot closer. He jumped when the lid popped off, but didn’t hit the ground.

Nino’s face appeared at the edge.

An exhilaration he’d never experienced before swept over Sho, and he grabbed the handles of Aiba’s wheelchair before cocking his head to get Ohno to follow him. Sho sped towards the orange bin, making Aiba cling to the armrests for dear life; Ohno soon overtook them, figuring out what they were chasing.

They finally stopped in front of a boarded-up house. Nino leapt out of the bin and over the fence before rounding the house and disappearing from sight. Ohno followed suit, and Sho rolled his eyes at those athletic bastards and decided to try the front gate just to see if it worked. It did.

“Nice,” praised Aiba, wheeling himself over. Sho shut the gate, checked that no one had followed, and headed for the back of the house.

***

“Oh, thank fuck,” was the first thing Jun said when he saw them, and Sho had the breath knocked out of him as Jun flung himself against Sho. “You idiot, where have you been?”

“Very, very lost,” Sho answered, hugging Jun back.

“We’ve been waiting for hours,” said Jun, stepping away from the embrace to look at the rest. “We thought something happened to you.”

“How did you guys get here so fast?” asked Ohno.

“I’ve lived here for three years, I know my way around,” said Nino. He was squatting beside Aiba’s wheelchair, elbow angled on his knee and knuckles pressed into his cheek. They hadn’t yet talked to each other. Sho knew they were figuring out how.

“And I grew up here,” said Jun.

Sho’s eyebrows shot up. “This house?”

“This house.” Jun nodded. “I wasn’t allowed to explore, but my parents made sure I knew the way out just in case something happened to them and I had to get help. Naturally, I also know the way in.”

“That’s how we met, actually,” he said casually to Aiba, as if they’d been chatting all along. “He came wandering into the neighbourhood, and I said hi.”

“Why is your house teeming with the authorities?” asked Sho.

“Oh, that,” said Nino. “After Jun-kun got me out by saying I was super allergic to a statue of Buddha, they said they still had to search my house to see if I had accidentally transported any foreign objects in my affliction or some shit like that. They ordered me to go with them.”

“I wasn’t allowed to go,” Jun spoke up, “but by then I’d already told Nino where we were meeting.”

Nino nodded. “I think those bastards were just finding an excuse to feed me the waters, and because I live way out here it’d suit their needs really well. But yeah, I jumped out of the train halfway and came here. I don’t think they expected me to come back, see.”

“They would’ve been able to track you, though,” said Sho. “Population registry has your scent.”

Nino grinned. “Not if I gave myself the vaccine.” Nino looked at Ohno and gave him a wave of acknowledgement. “Just like you showed me, Sensei.”

“Congratulations on your first successful intramuscular injection.” Ohno clapped politely.

“Okay, you guys. Enough talk.” said Sho, planting his feet apart and his hands on his hips. “We need to get to a portal. Fast.”

“There’s one in the ground outside,” said Nino. “We had two hours to find it.”

There was a pause, in which Aiba poked Nino’s shoulder. “Took you ten seconds, didn’t it?”

Nino broke into an impossibly wide grin. “Come on, Aiba-kun. Who do you think I am?” Nino laughed. “It took all of eight.”

Soon they were all gathered around the entrance to the portal, which turned out to be an unobtrusive manhole with a rather charming woodland scene on its cover. Nino stepped on it once, and when he removed his foot, the cover was gone. In it was a swirling darkness, and Sho could hear the echoes of sounds he’d never heard before: unwritten melodies in discordant modes, orphaned notes in their last chance at song. It was eerie and beautiful and incredibly sad.

It made him realise that this was goodbye.

“Will Nino be… Will your people forgive him?” Jun asked Aiba before glancing at Nino, concern fleeting across his features.

Aiba nodded, looking down at Nino, who was helping him stand upright. “I’ll make sure no harm comes to him.”

Nino patted Aiba’s arm appreciatively. “Yay.”

Aiba looked at Sho, then Jun and Ohno. “Do you guys want to come?”

Sho was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“You mean defect?” Ohno asked at the same time.

“Well, the Third Realm really needs doctors. Doctors who are also good people.” Aiba paused, flushing. “Sorry, I realise it’s a tall order. It’s like asking someone to abandon their family.”

Sho and Jun looked at each other.

“I’ve… never really thought about it before,” said Jun haltingly, turning his eyes away from Sho. Sho looked at Jun in surprise. Did that mean Jun was thinking about it now?

“It’s not safe here.” Nino was the one speaking now, lacking all of his usual facetiousness. “Especially not for you two, if you keep going at it.” He was looking at Sho and Jun.

Sho couldn’t hide his surprise, shyness, shame, _joy_ —all the odd sensations that came with a love being found out. He knew Nino was a creature more perceptive than most; it really didn’t surprise him that Nino knew. Ohno, on the other hand, seemed clueless. He looked back and forth between Sho and Jun, trying to figure out what Nino meant.

“You could be a family in our world,” said Aiba, making things even plainer. “Don’t you want that?”

Ohno’s mouth rounded into an ‘O’.

“I do,” said Sho, “but we know so much now. Enough to make a difference.” He looked at Jun and Ohno. “Enough to make things better, if not right.”

“The government’s secrets have to be exposed,” said Ohno, agreeing. “And if there’s anyone who could do it, it’d be me.”

“And I want to help you,” Sho told Ohno.

“I’m with them,” Jun said at last, eyes moist, and Sho’s heart ached for him. “The prospect of elopement is enticing,” Jun paused to give Sho a smile, “and the opportunity to help the oppressed even more so, but there are people who are being oppressed here as well. I think we have to take care of our own first.” Jun gave Aiba an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“No,” Aiba shook his head firmly, “after all you’ve done for me? After all that I can only _imagine_ you all have done for me?” He looked at the group, tears welling in his eyes. “You have nothing to say sorry for.”

“I, on the other hand, do.” Nino reached a hand out to Jun, who took it. “Ever since I met you, we’ve wanted the same things for this world. But now I’ve got to go back to my own.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Jun, sniffling but still braving a smile. “Good thing I’m losing one yet gaining two.” Jun pointed his thumb at Sho and Ohno.

“And sorry I’ve been so crazy since the onset of my symptoms,” said Nino to everyone in general, before looking to Ohno. “The stuff you gave me for my gland really helped, though. Now I’ve had the vaccine, I know what being free feels like, and that drug came pretty close.”

“Good to know,” said Ohno, grinning. “It’s something I’ve been working on for retrograde patients. You were my guinea pig.”

“ _What_.”

“All the more reason to stay, huh?” said Sho softly, looking at Ohno. “Lots more to do, for the people, for medicine.”

All of them fell quiet.

“Nino,” Aiba broke the silence, jutting his chin at the portal, “can they open this by themselves?”

Nino nodded. “This is an exit portal. Anyone can open it.”

Aiba took a deep breath and looked at the others. “Please know that if you ever change your mind, I'll be waiting.”

“You might want to remember that we belong to the Clan of Chiba,” provided Nino helpfully. “Just in case people rush at you with silver weapons, shout that. If they’re still charging at you, add ‘Aiba Masaki loves me’. I swear nobody would dare lay a finger on you.”

Sho laughed. His eyes met Nino’s, prompting Sho to give a brief nod. Nino winked back.

Sho would miss him so, _so_ much.

“Goodbye, and thank you for saving me,” said Aiba, reaching out to hug all of them at once. They ended up in a tight ring of limbs and foreheads, and Sho actually felt a tear creep down his cheek. He hadn’t even realised he’d been crying.

They broke apart, barely containing their emotions, and Nino gave Aiba a nudge before they disappeared down the portal. It happened too fast for Sho’s liking—one moment they were there, and then it was just a manhole cover with a woodland scene.

“That’s that, then,” Ohno mumbled.

“I’ll miss them,” said Jun, sighing.

“All right.” Sho took Jun’s hand in his, then Ohno’s, for good measure.

“Let’s do this.”


	6. Epilogue

_12 years later_ —

“Fumiya!” Aiba called, arching his back so he could look into the dining room. “Do you want any juice?”

“No,” answered Fumiya, “but could I have coffee instead?”

“You’re six years old, Fumiya.” Aiba laughed. “Wait another decade.”

“Aw, come on, Maa-kun.” Fumiya pattered over to the refrigerator, where Aiba was taking out a carton of milk. “Please?”

“I don’t want to get into trouble with your dads. They’ve never said you can have coffee,” said Aiba, bumping the door of the fridge shut with his hip. He looked down at the little boy. “Where _are_ your dads, anyway?”

“Last night they said they had to work late.” Fumiya shrugged. “They’re in Tou-chan’s room.”

Aiba kept his face as blank as possible as he met Fumiya’s innocent gaze. ‘Working late’ could only mean two things: (a) they were working late, or (b) the sexier thing.

“You know what? Let’s go try their door.”

Aiba put the milk on the dining table and headed for the bedroom in question. He loved those guys, but not being around on the morning of their son’s birthday was a bit too much. Besides, there were enough days when he was the one preparing Fumiya’s meals. He lived with them, yes. He worked from home, yes. But he was the landlord. Not to mention freaking _chief of the clan_. Aiba rapped on the door a little harder than was necessary.

There was no response.

“We’ve knocked, so,” said Fumiya, pointing at the doorknob.

Aiba was pretty confident he wasn’t going to find his friends naked in bed because they'd given him express permission to wake them up for anything that involved Fumiya, and they’d always been responsibly clothed when it happened. It was one of the ways parenthood had changed them; Aiba was impressed at how they’d grown, and in spite of all the tiny nuisances that came with it, it made him honoured to be part of the team that was raising this little boy.

Which was why he couldn’t condone Fumiya’s parents missing his birthday morning.

Aiba nodded to Fumiya, then opened the door and peered in. He broke into a face-breaking grin when he heard Fumiya’s excited shriek, the sight in the room meeting their eyes.

“Daddy! Papa! Tou-chan!” Fumiya leapt onto the bed, where the three men were being startled awake, and Aiba cackled when he saw Fumiya had stepped on Nino’s balls, making him choke and curl up on his side.

Jun flew out of bed, furious and disoriented. He looked around at the room, took in the balloons on the ceiling, their ribbons billowing in the wind from the open window; the ‘Happy 6th Birthday!’ banner; the multi-coloured bunting; the origami animals, and finally Fumiya. He then gave an almighty groan.

“This was supposed to be a surprise!” said Jun, shooting Aiba a dirty look. Aiba held up his hands to claim ignorance, still grinning. He knew nothing.

Fumiya was cheering at the top of his voice, and Sho put his hands on Fumiya’s shoulders, asking him to calm down.

“You guys said there was no party this year,” said Fumiya, still fidgety with excitement.

“We lied,” said Nino helpfully, and Jun thwacked him on the arm, muttering his usual about lying not being something they wanted to encourage, remember the time they found out their country was built on lies?

“It was a last minute decision,” said Sho, a tinge of regret in his voice as he shot Aiba an apologetic look. “We wanted to tell you, Aiba-kun, but you were asleep.”

“Nah, I went to bed way early. It’s all cool.”

“Anyway,” said Sho, smiling at his son, rubbing his little round belly, “happy birthday, Fumi-kun.” Fumiya hugged him, then Nino clamoured for his turn, before Jun carried Fumiya in his arms and spun in circles, making the boy laugh.

“Must be nice, having three dads,” came a voice from behind Aiba. “My kid only has one.”

“ _Leader!_ ”

“Sensei!”

“Oh-chan~”

“Sammy!”

“When did you come back?”

“Was it fun at the border? How’s Toma?”

“Still Prime Minister, so that’s something.” Ohno laughed. “Nice welcome, thanks. I’ll tell you guys more over breakfast.” He turned to Aiba. “I noticed there was a pack of unopened sausages by the stove, so I figured you guys hadn’t started.”

“These guys overslept,” Aiba jabbed his thumb over his shoulder as they filed out of Nino’s room. “They stayed up late making birthday party decorations.”

“That’s sweet.”

“I’d die before I ever fold an origami animal again,” Jun announced, Fumiya still in his arms. “No offence, kiddo.”

“Life’s too short for proclamations like that,” said Nino dismissively as he walked into the hallway. He nudged Sho. “I think Jun-kun doesn’t remember you guys actually die now!”

Sho laughed, pulling Nino close. “Jun-kun doesn’t remember his son is only six and we have eons before Fumi-kun starts giving up on cool things like origami,” he said against Nino’s lips.

“Lucky the kid has three dads, because one’s a dud,” Nino whispered back, and pecked at Sho’s lips noisily, just the way Jun hated it.

“It’s like they don’t know whose DNA you carry,” Jun lamented to Fumiya. “They may win every other argument, but Daddy’s got the trump card.”

Sho and Nino looked at each other for a moment before rushing up to Jun and smothering him and Fumiya in kisses.

“How do you live with them?” Ohno asked Aiba, wonder in his voice.

“Eight years is a long time, Leader.” Aiba shrugged. “At some point you save up enough money to buy a really great pair of noise-cancelling headphones.”

They gathered again at the breakfast table after everyone had washed up and gotten properly dressed, and as the talk centred around the diplomacy talks Ohno was facilitating between the Third Realm and the DTP, the fathers took the chance to teach Fumiya the meaning of a ‘bloodless coup’, something they’d been a part of before they left their country, which was a whole world away. Everyone then shared a good-natured laugh over how crazy it was that Toma the Intern was probably going to save the world. Fumiya, sparked by how grownup the conversation was, asked for permission to have coffee; Jun said no, Nino said yes, so Sho was the tie-breaker, and Fumiya got to have a spot of coffee in his milk. Aiba excused himself (there were a couple of new initiatives that had been proposed to him for small businesses that he had to read through), prompting everyone to remind him to be back in time for the party, and Ohno said he’d catch up with Aiba then.

Aiba pushed his chair back, about to get up from the table, when he stopped mid-crouch. He then sat down again, looking at each person with a goofy smile on his face.

“Oh boy,” said Nino. “Buckle up, you guys—”

“I love all of you so much,” Aiba said, voice cracking. “How are you guys _all_ here? How?!”

“Stop crying,” said Ohno, “you’re gonna make me cry!” Aiba bawled even harder, and Ohno’s face crumpled. Jun shook his head and grabbed a napkin, changed his mind about giving it to either of his sobbing friends, and slid it over to Fumiya instead, motioning for the child to clean up the ketchup stain on his chin.

“I’m so lucky…” Aiba continued, garbling the rest of his words. Nino threatened to throw a roll at him.

But Sho understood. He knew exactly what Aiba was talking about. He, too, was feeling extremely blessed to have this: the loves of his lives, all together in one place. It hadn’t been a joy ride—it’d taken the bridging of two worlds, after major social and political reforms in both, the toppling and rebuilding of faith, and sheer perseverance, for them to get here. Thinking back on all of their labour and all of their tears, Sho knew every sacrifice had been worth it, because they’d been made just for a chance at this very love. Or maybe all these loves. No matter. Nomenclature was secondary. He reached over and caught Jun’s hand in his.

“Hm?” Jun looked up from his breakfast to meet Sho’s eyes. Sho smiled and moved his arm in a sweeping gesture to include everyone at the table.

“Mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a weird little story that I ended up really liking because it helped me explore themes that I've never explored before. It was important for me to overturn the idea of convention: what makes up a family? What does commitment look like when romance or marriage isn't a thing?
> 
> I'd written with my recipient in mind, and looked through all of their prompts every time I opened my document to write this story. I noticed that my recipient wasn't against the idea of a polyamorous setting, and I took liberties with that even though it wasn't specified in the prompt I picked. I wanted to create a situation for this Sho character that was a world away from the one he was born into. I'm not making an argument for whatever we witness in our world; my purpose was to create a framework of possibility, a place where people don't think of exclusivity as being 'one person + another person' because the idea of being with anyone at all is illegal unless you were labelled otherwise. I wanted Sho to open up, to accept his circumstances and adopt his true identity. So I made him fight with himself about his beliefs, even his religious ones. I made him fall in love even before he knew what love was. He even experienced attraction to more than one person, though later he found out through loving different people that love came in many forms, and so did attraction. He recognised all of his emotions, and became the person he wanted to be. Lastly, he became someone with a family that might be unconventional in *our* world, but because *their* world has no conventions... It was his normal.
> 
> All of these things mean something to me, and I really wanted to portray it in this fic, through Sho. Ambitious much? ^^;;
> 
> The recipient had mentioned something about the ABO universe, which I wasn't comfortable writing but was honestly quite intrigued by, so I again took liberties and wondered if I could put a spin on werewolf involvement. I liked the idea of how they represented a race within a larger group. The revenant and vampire tropes soon followed. How I managed to write about werewolves, vampires and revenants in a fic that isn't about them, I don't really know, but I hope I pulled it off.
> 
> I waited to publish this because I wanted to add more to the story (hence the next part of the series; links follow). This is not to say that I wasn't satisfied with the original; I was very pleased with how it turned out, but I wanted to flesh the relationships out a bit more, to provide more context to whoever has concerned themselves with this universe.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a nice day.
> 
> PS. 'Fumiya' comes from an old nickname of Aiba's. I can't remember where it is from exactly, but I know the story, roughly: Arashi were giving themselves alternative names, and Nino said Aiba looks like a 'Fumiya'. Aiba started using it on their radio show and got scolded by their manager because Arashi had already debuted and the audience would only be confused with the misnomer. I think 'Sammy' for Ohno comes from the same story. Do comment if you want to contribute to this bit of the conversation XD


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